


Crosses To Bear

by chemicalcandy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Blow Jobs, Dom Frank Iero, Dom/sub, Drug Use, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Sub Gerard Way, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalcandy/pseuds/chemicalcandy
Summary: Sometimes you just know when to stay away from someone. And sometimes you can't help yourself.





	1. Chapter 1

The wall was excruciatingly blank. It was just white; not even a single stain was to be found, no clocks, no paintings, no pictures, no windows. It was quite depressing, honestly, and Frank felt like that was more than just a little counterproductive. They should have put up a painting. Just one would’ve been nice. Just so he’d have something to fucking look at, something other than this nerve-wrecking white in front of him.

The lack of a clock on said wall was annoying, too. Frank needed to know how many minutes had passed already, and when he would finally be able to leave this place. It seemed like they had done everything they could to make these sixty minutes pass by as slowly as possible, hoping that Frank would get so bored that he decided not to come here anymore, and find another way to help himself. Which, well. He wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t tried that, okay?

It was a boring wall, really. White and just as dull as the subtle but increasingly painful throb in Frank’s forehead. Definitely spacious enough for a clock. It didn’t even have to be a pretty one, though Frank would have preferred it to be nice to look at, but he wasn’t picky when it came to time-displaying devices in hospitals. Not knowing how much time had passed was driving him crazy, crazier than he already was – he’d even thought he was imagining hearing a clock ticking until he’d realized the noise was caused by one of the girls sitting opposite him, clicking her overly long nails on the armrest of her chair.  
  
He knew there was a reason for the room being so empty and maddening to look at for minute after minute. Frank was supposed to be paying attention to the people around him, but he couldn’t really bare looking at them. Not even at the woman sitting right next to him. Today he didn’t want to hear her talk about how understanding she was, about how supportive she wanted to be, about how it was _okay,_ and everybody had problems and conflicts. How it was brilliant all of them had shown up and were willing to fight the obstacles in their lives. It was what she usually told them at the beginning of each meeting.  
  
It wasn’t like Frank hated coming here twice every week. Honestly, it was the only reason for him to leave the house apart from when his fridge got dangerously empty and his fucking job. Walking all the way to the hospital always seemed sort of refreshing - as long as he ignored his destination, anyway. Frank still fought coming here. Sometimes it was nearly impossible, sometimes he could win the fight pretty easily. Today it hadn’t been easy. Coming here was like giving up, like admitting that he was a failure, desperately trying to fix his miserable life. Frank had sort of accepted that he was a failure long ago, but for years and years, a part of him had been fighting against begging other people for help.  
  
After the… incident, Frank had been forced to realize he just couldn’t do it on his own. Arranging the first meeting with his therapist had been such a freeing feeling at first, like he could breathe again, keep on living. Came the first day of his therapy, Frank had found himself sitting on his couch, eating chips, smoking and drinking beer, ignoring his front door and everything that was behind it. He knew he wasn’t brave enough, he knew he’d never be able to go out there and bare himself, talk about his problems with a perfectly healthy person. He hated the thought of someone pretending to be helpful and understanding, when really they were just judging his every word.  
  
So a support group it was. Frank had been hating himself for way too long, even _he_ had noticed that, but he would never have actually made the step of joining this group if it hadn’t been for the leaflet in his mailbox, advertising an organization, that was able to make a difference and help everyone, because “ _everyone deserves the chance to be happy_ ”. And although Frank found that banner awfully cheesy and his first thought had been to throw it away, something about that leaflet had spoken to him. Something about it had made him go to the meeting dated on it two days later, and this same something had been making him come back every Monday and Thursday for the last three weeks.

The concept of the support group was more complex than Frank had expected. He could tell some people were actually helped by discussing their problems in the big circle first, so anybody could give their opinion or tips or solution approaches. After around thirty minutes, the group then split into several smaller ones. The formations were different every week so Frank got to talk to lots of people, and mostly, the topics of the conversations developing there weren’t even focused on each other’s problems, but more on every-day subjects, like the weather, or movies, or bands, or books. It was to take each other’s minds off the issue, to rediscover the versatility of life and create new interests, or even friendships. Though Frank was not really good at the latter.  
  
Still, he preferred that second part of the meetings. Talking to people was something completely forgotten in his dreary life, so hearing about other people’s families or friends, or literally _whatever,_ was refreshing and actually enjoyable. He tried to talk about himself as little as possible, not wanting to give away that these meetings were the highlights of his current life.  
  
Oh, and then there was the third part of the meetings where the buffet was opened and Frank could eat as many cupcakes as he wanted. He also really liked that about this group, and if they had advertised free food, Frank wouldn’t even have had to think about whether he was joining or not. Money was tight, and also, he was getting tired of carrying the heavy bags up the stairs to his apartment after buying the cheap shit from the supermarket across the street. Free food was always a good thing.  
  
The first part, the part he was stuck in just now, was torture, though. It really was. Hearing about the other members’ addictions, or losses, or diseases… it was hard, and Frank knew that it was probably just as hard to talk about for them as it was for Frank to even think about what had made him come here. But at the same time, he envied those other people. They were _lucky_. Because nobody gave the guy whose sister had died half a year ago a second glance, or the girl who’d nearly overdosed. Of course, those fates were harsh but here, in this environment, in this very group, it was… nothing _special_. There were at least three members suffering from gambling problems. Four from alcoholism. Two from having lost a close friend or family member. They had each other. Their problems weren’t that fucking special at all. Frank felt cruel for thinking like that, but that was exactly what his problem was. He _was_ fucking cruel.

At least none of them was some kind of sadistic freak. Because that was what Frank was – a freak. He liked inflicting pain, he liked watching people suffer and cry and bleed and beg, and even to Frank himself that was so fucking disgusting that he wondered why he was even allowing himself to still be alive, every single day. He didn’t just enjoy making others endure pain, he _loved_ it. He got off on it. Frank was fucking sick, he was so fucking sick of himself and his thoughts, but they just wouldn’t stop. And talking about this in front of a bunch of strangers, who were here because of almost ordinary trouble… It was degrading and painful, and it sucked. Like, who doesn’t know at least one person who has suffered from drinking too much? Who the fuck even cares anymore?  
  
People cared about Frank being a sadist, though. He could feel all their judging gazes piercing him whenever it was his turn to talk about his thoughts, his feelings, his improvements. Only that there never were any improvements. Even though Frank had managed to block those sickening thoughts out of his conscious for most of the time, he kept having dreams about tying people up, making them beg and scream for mercy. The worst of it all was waking up with a raging boner every single time that happened, though he never mentioned that. These strangers knew way too much about his sex life already. Frank just loved feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body; he loved the power, knowing he was in charge and somebody was utterly at his mercy. It was arousing to him to see people on their knees for him, doing anything he wanted.

It all had started out so simple. Frank had known there was something wrong in his head for many years, even as a kid. He’d always liked coming up with these stories, stories where somebody, preferably a boy, got kidnapped and tied up. Being young and relatively innocent, Frank had not known about sex or what his dick was there for other than peeing, so he hadn’t really known what to make out of the exciting, tingly feeling in his belly whenever the stories in his head became... _darker_ , like when the captive was forced to plead for their freedom, or even for minor things, like food or water. He wisely had never told his parents about those thoughts, though, knowing something about them wasn’t right, and feeling ashamed because of them. His vivid imagination had also been the reason he didn’t like saying “please” or “I’m sorry”, because he’d always associated these words with the victims in his stories. He hadn’t wanted to become one of them. Frank didn’t like asking for things or apologizing. He was better than that.  
  
Then puberty had happened and Frank had experimented with his body, just as every average teenage boy. Years passed by with him jacking off on a regular basis, never really connecting the joyful feeling that came with imagining people in pain with his sexual lust. The day he discovered a BDSM video on one of his porn sites was the turning point, so to speak.  
  
Vanilla porn became boring and barely even close to turning him on. Hearing people moan was just distracting, in most cases. What Frank needed was for them to scream. Pain. Roughness. At this point, it hadn’t really crept him out yet, he’d just made sure to never mention it to anybody and always use the incognito mode he’d thankfully discovered by then. He’d almost felt like a normal person. The whole pain thing was just a _kink_. A kink he better kept a secret, so his dear ones wouldn’t think him a weirdo.

So that was what Frank did. It wasn’t until after his twentieth birthday that he was in his very first relationship – his first _proper_ one, with another boy. Being gay was something Frank had struggled with for years, so he had tried dating several girls, hoping he’d develop feelings if he just met the right one. It never happened though, and when he'd met the guy who should turn out to be his first boyfriend, Oliver, he'd known for sure that he just had to accept he wasn’t into pussy.  
  
Oliver was his first kiss, his first handjob, and blowjob, and first fuck. Their relationship wasn’t necessarily about love. In hindsight, Frank doubted he’d loved him at all; they’d just been too caught up in each other’s bodies to realize that. And boy, had they had sex. It had felt like Frank’s dick wanted to make up for all the years he’d missed out on. Despite them fucking several times almost every single day, Frank had never been _fully_ blown away once the initial excitement had ebbed away. The sex was good, Oliver was tight, yeah, and he’d had experience with his mouth. But it hadn’t fully satisfied Frank’s needs.  
  
After they broke up, it took Frank five more relationships to build up enough trust in himself and his partners. His seventh relationship was what had made him end up here.  
  
Frank closed his eyes tightly, feeling them having become dry from staring at the wall opposite him for so long. They instantly teared up when Frank pressed the balls of his hands into them, rubbing to make the uncomfortable feeling go away. His back hurt from sitting on the plastic chair, and the girl was still causing this distracting noise with her finger nails, though Frank had to admit he’d zoned out and was only now hearing it again.

When he opened his eyes, he realized the group leader next to him had stopped talking and they had started introducing themselves. Frank’s insides contracted painfully realizing there were only a bunch of people before he would have to talk about his _problem_ again. Most of the people here knew about it anyway, but since this was an “open” group, Frank saw new faces among the members almost every meeting, whereas others stayed at home. There were about thirty people in the room – sixty ears that would hear his pathetic story about being unable to control himself, sixty eyes watching him look at his lap in shame. The tension was devastating, yet Frank couldn’t deny talking about it always lifted some weight off him. He just had to ignore the fact that he was an outsider with his weird sexual likings. That even though people pretended to understand, they never fully would.

“What was your most prominent experience since our last meeting, Jasmine? Did you… feel anything unusual? Anything you’d like to tell us about?” Eleanor, the group leader, asked a girl that had just joined them recently. She was young, twenty tops. Her slim, bony body and the dark circles under her eyes told Frank everything about her past; he didn’t even have to listen to her quick introduction that everyone was asked to give at the beginning of their meetings.  
  
Eleanor was the complete opposite of her. She was a black woman in her forties or early fifties, who emitted a certain positive aura not even Frank in his ignorant and self-focused mindset could miss, and despite being surrounded by tragic fates, she always seemed to have a smile on her face. In one of Frank’s first meetings she had opened up to the group and let them know she had lost her son over twenty years ago. Time and exterior support had helped her through it and healed most of the wounds, which was why she believed in the sufficiency of this group and had volunteered to be the leader. Frank looked up to her a lot. There just wasn’t a way he couldn’t respect her and appreciate what she was doing for people like him, who didn’t have the luck of being supported by family members or friends. He’d even been brave enough to open up to her once, when they’d been alone, and all of the others had already left. Of course he hadn’t told her the whole story, he didn’t want her to hate him, but she knew way more than anyone else.  
  
It took a while until the girl, Jasmine, answered, but Eleanor never pushed anybody. Patiently everybody waited until she had found the courage to speak, her dark-rimmed eyes darting around nervously. “I… I think...” she began insecurely, seeking Eleanor’s encouraging nod before continuing. “I think something has definitely changed. B-But I… I did it again. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, and I tried not to, I really did, but the- the pills were just _there_ , and...” She began sobbing, resting her head in fragile hands as her body shook. A woman sitting next to her patted her shoulder comfortingly but it didn’t seem to be helping a lot. Of course she was taking drugs, everything about her told Frank so, he’d been right.  
  
“It’s okay, Jasmine. Just because you come here doesn’t mean your addiction is gone. It’s hard work to overcome the urge to take those pills, but we can work on it together. Everybody in this room is here to help you. Can I have a ‘We’re here to help you’ from everyone?”  
  
“We’re here to help you,” Frank muttered along with everybody else, although he didn’t feel all that sorry for the girl. At least nobody thought she was a freak. All she was getting was sympathy, _honest_ sympathy from most people here, whereas Frank was getting… well.  
  
“Thank you,” Eleanor said sincerely. Jasmine did actually look a little better then, offering a grateful but still sad smile. “What did you feel taking the pills?”  
  
Jasmine sniffed. “I f-felt… guilt. Yeah. I felt horrible. Be-Because I felt like I was betraying you...”  
  
“Did you feel guilty doing drugs before?”  
  
“N-No.” She shook her bony head determinedly. “Not really. I- I mean, I knew I wasn’t doing something good, but I just never cared enough, I guess...”  
  
Eleanor looked at her excitedly and nodded. “Then we have made an improvement here! Jasmine, everybody here is very proud of you. You should not feel bad for taking those pills because of us, though. Not mainly. Try thinking of yourself. Of your family, your friends, your future kids maybe? They will be so proud of you once you’re sober. _You_ will be so proud.”  
  
Frank really couldn’t pinpoint what about Eleanor it was, but even hearing her cheer up somebody else made him feel a little better about himself. She, somehow, transferred positivity, but subtly, and apparently, that was what Frank was longing for.  
  
The minutes passed by quicker now. Frank realized that if he spent his time actually listening, sitting here for an hour wasn’t painful at all, though he still felt pangs of jealousy when one by one uttered their problems and none of them was nearly as horrible as Frank’s. There was this one older guy whose daughter had been raped, though. Frank did feel sympathy for him, but mostly he just felt disgusted with himself, because he was sick enough to do something very similar to that. Well, of course he wouldn’t so much as fucking _touch_ a six year old girl – _fuck_ no – but he too had fucked someone without their full consent, and hearing the man’s story reminded him way too much of his own fucked up life, so he just had to distract himself, unable to hear the whole story. This was so fucked.  
  
“We’re here for you,” everybody around him mumbled, dragging Frank out of his thoughts. The older guy’s eyes were wet and he looked at everyone sitting around him genuinely thankful, and Frank felt stupid for not listening to everything he’d had to say. This seemed to be something extraordinary, for once.  
  
Between that guy and Frank were only three more people. All too soon, Frank would be asked to speak about his last couple of days. The first one was a man that had been a part of this group even before Frank; he’d survived a car crash and had been suffering from a trauma ever since. Enough time had passed since the accident for his health to be stable, and most of his mental issues were gone, so an actual therapy didn’t make much sense. Still, he didn’t feel able to live his life without some kind of assurance and help, so he frequently visited the group with much enthusiasm and gratitude. Frank thought he was a little too eager for a member of a support group, but hey, _he_ was not here to judge.  
  
“Frank,” Eleanor said a few short minutes later. Frank looked up at her, a little startled despite having known it would be his turn soon. “Why don’t you introduce yourself quickly for those who’ve joined us today?”  
  
Frank sucked in a breath and nodded. This was the worst part. “Sure. So… I’m Frank. I’m thirty-two. I like playing the guitar.”  
  
“Very good, Frank,” Eleanor encouraged him, and yet again, he felt actually reassured. “Tell us why you’re here?”  
  
“I… I have a problem with… controlling myself. I’ve hurt someone.”  
  
“We will be able to help you better if you are more specific. Can you please open up a bit?” she asked kindly. “It will also help you deal with your problem.”  
  
Frank’s stomach churned when he nodded, careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to repeat what he’d said in every single meeting so far, finding it easier to have a way of phrasing it without having to actually think about what he was saying. It still cost him enough to get the following words out. “I like seeing people in pain. I like inflicting pain. Especially during… during sex, yeah.”  
  
Everyone was staring at him. Judging him, with their eyes wide and their mouths opened even wider. Frank just knew they were. With his cheeks red, he kept focusing on the floor in front of him. His tongue darted out, first licking over his bottom lip and then over the tiny hole below where he once had a piercing, desperate to distract himself. It seemed to take ages until Eleanor finally spoke again.  
  
“And why do you think you need our help because of that? You know some people simply have their preferences in things like that. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” she objected.

Talking about this was agony for Frank. In front of all these people… he wouldn’t mind telling Eleanor, not really, but she already knew what he was going to say and was asking merely so everybody else in the room would understand and “be able to help”. Frank swallowed the lump in his throat and parted his lips slowly.  
  
“Because I feel like it… it’s gotten out of hand. It makes me hate myself. In the past, I… I’ve done something I regret every single day. Some people might do it and it’s okay, but what I do… it’s not. It’s not _okay_.”  
  
“I know you haven’t wanted to tell us what exactly you have done that you regret so much. Maybe today you want to let us in?” she suggested gently.

Frank quickly shook his head. “No.”  
  
“Are you sure? We can help you process it. We can help you keep living your life. Can I get a “We’re here for you” for Frank, please?”  
  
Everybody repeated the sentence monotonously, but it didn’t change Frank’s opinion. It wasn’t like he just didn’t want to talk about it. He _couldn’t_.  
  
“No,” he said again.  
  
“It’s okay if you’re not ready, Frank. Just know that everybody here is willing to help you.”  
  
Frank nodded, keeping his eyes down. Eleanor might be willing to help, but he doubted anybody else saw him as someone who actually _needed_ help. Frank was just… a freak.

“I once had a boyfriend,” a new voice said, making Frank look up. A woman with light blonde hair was looking at him cautiously, seeming a little startled Frank was making eye contact with her. “Who…. was into that. He would just talk to me about it, though, make sure I was okay. And it _was_ okay. You don’t have to… to hate yourself just because you like things a bit more extreme, you know?”  
  
“Thank you for that, Lucy,” Eleanor said calmly. “Have you considered talking to your partners, Frank? Does this change anything?”  
  
_Talk_ to them. Of course Frank had fucking talked to them. They’d had everything. Rules, safewords, hard limits, signals and signs. _Everything_. “It’s not like that,” he mumbled, looking at the floor again. “But… thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“Can you tell us about your weekend? Anything exciting happen?” Eleanor asked carefully.

Frank swallowed and shook his head. “Just… just the usual. Those dreams keep coming back.”  
  
“Do you want to talk about your dreams?”  
  
“N-No.”  
  
Eleanor sighed with a sad nod. “Do you want to add anything? I can tell you’d rather no longer talk about it.”  
  
Frank just shook his head again, grateful the attention was being taken off him.

“Okay. Thank you for letting us in, Frank, thank you all. Now we could-”  
  
“Hold on,” somebody said. When Frank looked up, he saw the older guy he had noticed before was looking at him, seeming angry. “You’re just letting him admit he likes to hurt people, _innocent people_ , and we’re not saying anything about it? Weren’t you listening when I told you my daughter’s rapist was never caught? It could be this tattooed hobo right here!”  
  
Frank was taken aback for a moment, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the guy in disbelief. Before he could comprehend what the man had just accused him of and the numerous insults could pop in his head, Eleanor had already stood up and raised both of her arms calmingly.  
  
“Samuel, I know what you have to go through is rough, but I can tell you Frank would never do anything like that. He’s here because he wants to become a better person, not to be called a child molester. For a fact, I know a bit more about his problem, and I can understand and respect that he wants to keep it a secret, because everybody has the right to-”

“Okay, so he’s not the one who did it to my daughter. But he just admitted to having raped someone, he should be in jail!”  
  
Something in Frank snapped. “I didn’t fucking _rape_ someone. What the fuck, man?” He had jumped to his feet without realizing it, and was glaring at the guy angrily, barely holding himself back from punching him in his stupid face. “You don’t fucking know my story, okay? I did something… unforgivable, but I would never touch a fucking _ki_ _d,_ and it wasn’t fucking rape _._ That’s-”  
  
“Frank, it’s okay,” Eleanor said, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Please calm down. Everybody, I think it’s time we move on and part in smaller groups. I’d like to have three to five people each. Make sure you get to know each other. Cheer each other up. Be social. I will be talking to Samuel in private.”  
  
Frank felt angry and not in the mood to just continue with the regular course of events, but Eleanor’s hand felt annoyingly soothing, and he knew she was right.  
  
“Is that alright, Frank?” she asked quietly once everybody had started forming groups. “Do you want to be a part of our conversation?”

“Fuck, no,” Frank spat. All sympathy he’d once felt for the guy had gone out of the window minutes ago, and he was so never speaking to that asshole again.  
  
The woman sighed. “I can understand your anger. But, please, consider the situation Samuel is in. His daughter has been hurt badly. Of course he’s looking for someone to blame. Now, I know it wasn’t you, and it feels devastating to be accused of something so terrible when your own problem is constantly dragging you down already. Just try to be understanding, please? We’re here to support each other.”  
  
Her eyes were so brown and warm and - apparently - fucking magical, because Frank found himself nodding reluctantly a few moments later. “Okay. But… not now. Can you talk to him alone first?”  
  
“Of course,” she promised with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Frank.” She let go of his shoulder once Frank had agreed hesitantly, gently telling him to join a group before she walked away to speak with Samuel. He was still sitting on his chair with his arms crossed in front of his chest defiantly, seeming not in the mood for a reasonable conversation.

Frank sighed and looked around to find people having gathered together, unsure of which group he should join. He didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, nor was he willing to take even more criticism. No matter how furious he was at the man for saying such horrible things, if he was completely honest, the only reason they bothered him so much was that he was hurt by them. Because Samuel’s accusation wasn’t that far off from reality, and he could see where he was coming from. It made him feel even filthier.  
  
Scowling, his rage started to shift until he was angry at himself. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and repeatedly telling himself it was okay. He was here to get better. Confrontation would help him get over it.  
  
“Hey… Frank?”  
  
Frank opened his eyes quickly to find the woman with the light blonde hair standing in front of him, smiling bashfully.  
  
“You are Frank, right?”  
  
“I… yeah.”

The woman nodded, offering her hand for him to shake, a gesture Frank accepted mechanically. “I’m Lucy. I saw you haven’t decided which group to join, so maybe you want to be in ours?” She turned lightly to point at the bony girl on pills and a black haired boy whose story he hadn’t paid attention to, all looking back at him with their arms hanging loosely by their sides awkwardly and their faces blank.  
  
“Okay, yeah. Thanks.” Frank nodded with a slight smile. He didn’t really feel like chatting with anyone after being yelled at, but Lucy had tried to be comforting before, and he was genuinely grateful for that. Joining this group was probably his best option today.  
  
She hummed happily and started walking back to the other two. Frank followed her, biting down on his bottom lip out of habit, his tongue licking over the skin caught between his teeth nervously.

“Hey, Frank,” the guy said. Frank vaguely recognized him, he’d been here a couple of times already. He remembered him saying something about his mother having cancer. Standing this close to him, having him greet him so kindly, made Frank feel nauseous. It was always easier to ignore how horrific some people’s lives were when he could just keep sitting on his chair, far away from everyone, but looking him straight in the eye and actually seeing the pain in them… it sucked. Yet again he felt a huge wave of respect towards Eleanor for dealing with so much pain voluntarily. Frank was sure that he would never have managed to do something like this. He wouldn’t even be here... if he didn’t have to.  
  
“Hi, uh...” he said, noticing too late that he didn’t actually know the guy’s name. He smiled awkwardly, hoping he wouldn’t have made him feel out of place.  
  
“Oh, I’m Max,” he offered, not bothered at all. “It’s okay you don’t know my name, there are so many people here every week.”  
  
“Yeah...” Frank agreed. Of course, Max knew Frank’s name, though. Frank the freak – easy to remember.  
  
“And this is Jasmine,” Max told Frank, pointing at the fragile girl next to him. She attempted to smile at Frank but couldn’t maintain eye-contact for more than a second, and looked away quickly. Frank did feel sorry for her then, just a little. She was barely participating in life anymore, too fucked up to even look at someone.  
  
“So, why don’t we talk about how we got to this group? I know we’re not supposed to be talking about… all _this_ too much, but my story is actually kind of funny, so I thought I could share?” Lucy offered with a smile. She seemed to grow more confident by the minute, apparently determined to make these last thirty minutes enjoyable. Frank realized he also hadn’t listened to her before, and asking about her problems now would make him feel stupid, so he just agreed to her suggestion, and hoped he would be able to draw conclusions out of context.  
  
Just when Lucy had begun to vividly talk about how somehow her cat was involved in the entire thing, Frank felt somebody grip his wrist carefully, and when he spun around, he found Eleanor standing behind him.  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” she excused herself with a shy smile when Lucy stopped talking. “I need to borrow Frank for a minute, there is something Samuel wants to tell him. Is that okay, Frank?”  
  
Frank shrugged. “Sure.”  
  
Eleanor guided him through the room, avoiding the small groups of people here and there. Samuel was waiting for Frank in a standing position by the wall, looking rather uncomfortable in his own skin now. It seemed like he wasn’t able to look at Frank anymore.  
  
“Frank is ready to listen to what you have to say, Samuel,” Eleanor told him in a kind tone once they were close enough. “What do you want to tell him?”  
  
“I… I’m sorry for saying the things I said,” Samuel uttered shakily. Frank raised his brows, not having expected to hear anything close to an apology. Eleanor had magical powers after all, it seemed, there was no other way she could have changed his mind so drastically within a few minutes. “I’m just… so frustrated. My baby has been hurt, and I can’t… I can’t deal with it. That’s not your fault. I’m sorry I accused you of raping her, I know it wasn’t you. I should be more supportive. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Very well, Samuel, thank you.” Eleanor nodded, sounding proud. “What can you answer him, Frank?”  
  
“H-How is your daughter doing?” Frank asked carefully. He could understand Samuel’s situation all too well. He didn’t hate him anymore. Just himself.  
  
Samuel smiled sadly. “She’s getting better. It’ll be a while until she’ll be her old self again… _if_ she will ever be her old self… but everybody’s doing a great job supporting us. I just wish that fucking swine would finally be caught, I can’t live with myself not knowing who did it to her.”  
  
Frank nodded, feeling touched by his story. It wasn’t Samuel’s fault he’d had such an outburst, it was okay. He settled for talking to Samuel a little more about his daughter, then quickly asked him whether he wanted to join their group as he began asking questions about Frank’s life in return.  
  
The whole thing had set something off in Frank. It seemed like all the anger Samuel had felt before was inside of _him_ now, like he just needed to punch a wall, or _himself_ , or he would lose his fucking mind. So, after making quick excuses to Lucy and the others, he told Eleanor he wasn’t feeling too well and asked her whether it was okay to leave early. He tried to block out her warning words about how he shouldn’t be alone in his current mindset, seeing straight through him and wanting him to be safe. She even tried to bribe him by telling him there were only about ten minutes left, anyway, and then Frank could eat as much as he wanted from the buffet. But not even the free food was appealing to him right now, so he chose to leave. If apologizing didn’t feel so wrong to him, Frank would have done so at that point, but he just stormed off with a “See you on Thursday” on his lips.  
  
He needed to be alone now. There was this fury boiling inside of him, a feeling that had become way too familiar, and he knew he would end up ruining the support group for himself if he’d stayed there a minute longer. The anger was gnawing on his self-control, and he knew that if he didn’t lock himself somewhere as fast as he could, someone would get hurt. Frank didn’t want to be that kind of person, that kind of _monster_  anymore. He couldn’t.  
  
After slamming the door shut, he turned around to run straight towards the elevator that would take him to the first floor of the hospital. Frank then would exit the building, turn left and run all the way to his apartment, just fucking _run_ , try to get away from himself…  
  
But before he could make the first step after spinning around, he crashed into something soft with a grunt. The collision forced him to stumble backwards and his back dash against the door he’d just closed.  
  
And Frank was _fuming_. “What the fuck-”  
  
“Sorry! Sorry, I’m so sorry, oh, shit, are you okay?” A person, a man that looked a couple of years younger than Frank, was standing in front of him, face filled with fear and sorrow. His voice was nasally, quiet, timid. He had jet-black hair and was slim, very slim, though he wasn’t half as fragile as Jasmine in the room behind Frank, and his eyes were fixed on Frank’s face in awe. Frank didn’t know whether he found the man pretty because he was _actually_ pretty, or because the way he kept eyeing him like a deer in the headlights with his head bowed submissively was what Frank’s wet dreams were made of. Frank gulped and took a step forward, away from the door, clenching his fists to stop himself from doing something he would regret later.  
  
“I’m… fine,” he told him through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the way his dick gave an interested twitch when the handsome stranger flinched at his harsh tone.  
  
“I’m really sorry. I- I didn’t see you. I’m so stupid. Sorry.” He bit his lip much like Frank tended to do it, eyes hurrying towards the floor.  
  
Frank took a deep breath and forced his dark thoughts away. He was in the middle of a hospital, he was in _public,_ and he was trying to be a decent person, for god’s sake. He should treat this man with a little more respect. “It’s all good,” he sighed, trying to sound friendlier than before. “It… it was my fault, really. Don’t… Don’t worry about it.”  
  
The man beamed at him, his sudden shift of emotions making Frank frown slightly. “Thank you! I was really worried. I… I do stupid things all the time.”  
  
“We all do,” Frank commented, meaning it.  
  
“Yeah, I… I guess. Anyway...” He fidgeted a crumbled dark paper out of the pocket of his jacket, smoothing it a little. Frank recognized it as the same leaflet he had found in his mailbox a couple of weeks ago, making him raise a brow. Of course, the trembling nervous guy was here for the support group. “I was looking for… uh, this, um, group thing? This says it’s in room 043, and that’s… uh...” He pointed at the number on the small sign next to Frank, awkwardly waiting for him to answer.  
  
“Oh, yeah. That’s the right room,” Frank confirmed vaguely.  
  
The man smiled in relief, nodding his head as he put the leaflet back in his pocket. “Good. I was, uh, confused because n-nobody’s here, but I guess they're all inside already, right?”  
  
“Actually, yeah. Because the meeting’s started about an hour ago and we’re basically finished.”  
  
The man’s face fell as he looked at Frank in disbelief. “An… an hour ago? B-But… fuck. Are you sure?” Frantically, he got the leaflet out again, studying it with a devastated expression.  
  
“Yes. I was in that room for the last hour.”  
  
The guy hung his head as he pocketed the leaflet, black longish hair covering his eyes. “I’m too late?” he muttered quietly, voice tremulous.  
  
Frank’s fists tightened. It was as if this man was just _provoking_ him, the way he was so lost, somehow, as if he was just waiting for Frank to ruin him even further. Fuck. He couldn’t handle him, not today. “I… I guess,” he acknowledged, desperately trying to find a way to move on with this conversation, or just move _away_ from this stranger. “But… there’s still buffet now. If you want free food. Looks like you need it.”  
  
“Not hungry,” the other man mumbled. He sighed and somehow looked even more helpless, eyes meeting Frank’s shortly like a plea Frank couldn’t understand. “I’m so stupid. I thought… I thought it said 8 pm. Not 7. I was so sure it was 8. Fuck.”  
  
“Well… the next meeting is on Thursday. At 7. So if you wanna come...”  
  
The man shook his head sadly. “I’m busy on Thursdays…”  
  
“Okay. Uh, that sucks.” Frank was seriously at a loss for words then. He felt relieved he wouldn’t see the man here again on Thursday, because if he kept acting like this, Frank really didn't know whether he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. He liked a little challenge breaking people, sure he did, but this man was basically offering himself, probably unknowingly, but _still._ It was extremely hard for Frank to stop himself from just grabbing him by his pretty disheveled hair and make him wish he had never set a foot in this hospital.  
  
“Well, thank you, I guess.” The man smiled at Frank briefly. “I better get going.”  
  
And with that he turned around and slowly went down the corridor, leaving Frank alone with his pulse throbbing in his neck. He sighed in relief, feeling his body tremble from effort. Fuck.  
  
Maybe this whole support group thing was wrong, after all. Frank had felt extremely reassured the last couple of meetings – well, it had hurt and it had been an embarrassing process, but it had helped. Encouraged him. Strengthened him. Today he had not only been called a pedophile and a rapist, but felt more disgusting in his own skin than he had in a long time. This hatred towards himself was coming back at once, forcing Frank to lean against the door for a minute to calm down. This man, this innocent man, who was clearly dealing with problems already… He’d had these thoughts again, he’d imagined hurting him, and he’d liked it, he’d liked it so much he was half hard in his pants. Fuck, he was a sick man. He should just spend the rest of his life in his apartment, alone, waiting for it to get better, because clearly, coming here - meeting people - wasn’t a good idea.  
  
He waited until the man had stepped into the elevator before he carefully peeled himself off the door. His legs were still trembling, but new anger fueled him on now. Determined to just get home, Frank made his way out of the hospital, convinced it was the last time he’d ever come here. For his own, and everybody else’s sake.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank was back on Thursday. Although he still felt ashamed and angry at himself, he knew that he was desperate for help and assurance. And he couldn’t deny that the smile on Eleanor’s face made him feel better as he sunk onto his chair three days later. Even if he hated how vulnerable he was during these meetings, deep down he knew he needed them.  
  
He really hadn’t wanted to come, though. In fact, he’d been so sure that he wouldn’t, had practically forced himself not to move away from his couch all day, but then he’d awoken from a nap this afternoon, drenched in sweat and with his hand already around his cock after another one of those fucking dreams. It was only after his orgasm that he realized how fucked up he was, that he’d been dreaming and thinking about pain and power _again,_ despite everything. He needed help; he kind of owed society that. Fuck what had happened on Monday.  
  
And creepily, everybody else seemed to agree. Nobody commented on him having joined the group, nobody even looked at him in any way he wasn’t used to, and when the session started, things seemed perfectly normal.  
  
For over twenty minutes, Frank was so caught up in being worried and expecting hateful comments towards him that he hadn’t thought about the pretty man he’d met on Monday until they were forming groups again and he found himself looking for him. He silently scolded himself for so much as wanting to be close to him again when clearly he wanted to hurt him.  
  
Only then he remembered what the guy had told him three days ago. He was busy on Thursdays, so he’d probably be back here on Monday. Again some weird part of Frank was kind of looking forward to seeing him, and he really wanted to punch himself. Just thinking about this man was _so wrong._ He made Frank want to forget all the things he’d started building up that kept him from hurting people any longer. This man had awoken everything in him again, and god, did Frank hate him for it. He knew he shouldn’t, and probably it was himself whom he hated, but it was nice to just act like something wasn’t completely his fault for once. Blaming others was what Frank had been doing for the past few years. He was pretty good at it.  
  
Fran spent his weekend like any other weeked - working, moping around, and smoking. Everything seemed depressing these days, so monotonous. If Frank was honest, he kind of wanted it that way. He needed it to be like that, needed that constant reminder of how he was a bad person, needed his apartment to be lousy and tiny, in order to remind himself that he didn’t deserve any better.  
  
What he had was so much better than he deserved, all thanks to his parents, whom he didn’t even talk to more than once or twice a month. They helped him pay the rent for his shitty apartment, and even tried to convince him to move on a monthly basis. They wanted him closer to them, or at least somewhere that wasn’t near that park the police had found three corpses in half a year ago. Somewhere Frank wouldn’t be surrounded by the heroine addicts he called his neighbors, somewhere Frank wouldn’t have to share his unit with rats. They’d even offered him his old bedroom in his chidlhood home, not caring about how their whole neighborhood would definitely talk behind their backs if the Ieros let their thirty-two-year-old son live with them again. Frank appreciated it, he really did. But his parents just didn’t understand what he had done. They didn’t understand why Frank was isolating himself. It was complicated; he couldn’t just tell them about how he got off on inflicting pain. Maybe that was why he never called them.  
  
His job made him feel even worse. Frank worked in this restaurant on the weekends, and leaving the house for that made him feel even more pathetic than when he went to the support group. It was a crappy job; tedious shifts that had him out of the ratty apartment from 4 pm to 1 am, just to come back tired and with his hands all itchy from the stupid plastic gloves they made him wear. It was his task to scrape other people’s food off plates and then rinse them with water. Nothing more, nothing less. The payment was shitty, and Frank was fairly sure his boss had just offered him the job because he knew his dad from high school, but at least Frank could stand by that sink for hours without anyone’s company. He couldn’t hurt anyone when he was alone.  
  
Working still somewhat distracted him, though. Just being out of his apartment and knowing he was earning money kept him entertained, and when he lay in bed afterwards, he always felt like he’d accomplished something. A little something, anyway. It made him feel a tiny bit better about himself.  
  
It was rainy on Monday. And colder than it should be for the middle of fucking September. Frank was wrapped in four different layers of clothing as he made his way to the hospital that evening, shivering slightly as the icy drops hit his face. The weather was like a silver lining though, because maybe some people had just stayed home, meaning the group would be smaller and he wouldn’t have to suffer through that many judging eyes this time.  
  
When he entered the building, he was soaked despite his umbrella. His shoes squeaked loudly against the wet linoleum floor, probably drawing attention to him. By then, Frank had been to the hospital enough times to know where to find the elevator without looking up, so he kept his hood low and his eyes down. He came to a halt next to another person in front of the elevator but didn’t bother looking up, hoping it wasn’t someone from group so he could avoid conversation for a couple of valuable minutes. Spending most of his life alone these days, Frank was kind of bad at dealing with people. It was hard to get out of that mindset where he didn’t need to communicate with anyone, but surprisingly easy to get back into once this hour of being uncharacteristically social was over.  
  
He seemed to be lucky today. Nobody attempted to talk to him as he stood there, waiting for the elevator, and Frank started to think maybe today wouldn’t be that bad. He’d take off the damp layers of his clothes once he was in room 043, and then just do everything as usual. This support group thing was helping, he could feel it. Not that he was looking forward to any of this, but… for once, he wasn’t completely repelled by the idea of spending the next hour with people. Which definitely counted as a success.  
  
The quiet _ding_ finally announced the elevator’s arrival. Frank looked up to find the doors opening in front of him. He followed the other man inside, then positioned himself in the corner furthest away from him. With a shrug he decided it would be okay to take off his coat – he couldn’t wait for the damp weight to be off his body. He was facing away from the other person anyway, making it unmissable he was not open to some chatter, anyone should be able to get his message.  
  
He felt watched taking off his first layer, like a pair of eyes was fixed onto the back of his head, then his back as he revealed what was underneath it. Luckily the denim jacket underneath felt mostly dry – the coat had done its job. He was beginning to warm up too; his fingers weren’t completely frozen anymore, and he was starting to feel his face again. Frank usually didn’t mind the cold too much – as long as no snow was involved, anyway – but today was different. _He_ felt kind different today. And he didn’t know whether he liked it.  
  
“Those stripes seem familiar.”  
  
The statement took Frank somewhat off guard. He didn’t even pause to let out an annoyed huff before he spun around to face the guy that had spoken, his brain messy, because one, that wasn’t exactly a common conversation starter, and two, that _voice_. That voice rang a bell, alarmingly so, and before Frank could stop himself to think, he had turned around and was looking at _him_. The guy he’d run into last Monday, quite literally. The submissive dude that had made Frank want to relapse completely.  
  
The man’s soft eyes widened briefly as Frank looked at him. Frank couldn’t tell whether it was because he hadn’t recognized him until that moment, or because he hadn’t expected to see whatever emotion was visible on Frank’s face. He seemed a little dumbstruck either way, and for a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other wordlessly. Then Frank finally broke the silence.  
  
“What?”  
  
“The stripes, the black stripes on your back, I...” the man explained hastily, hands moving wildly as if to get Frank to understand what he was talking about. It still took Frank a long couple of seconds until he understood and he was able to guess what the man was still rambling on about. He was wearing his denim jacket, the one with the patches on it, and the biggest one on the back of it was Black Flag’s logo.  
  
He frowned at the bundle of nerves in front of him, making him shut up when he opened his mouth. “The logo?” he asked, trying not to sound too confused. It didn’t seem like this man would be able to handle it very well if Frank showed him what he was thinking of him right then.  
  
“Yeah! If that’s what it is.” He nodded so heftily his black hair was all over his face by the time he stopped, and a big smile was on his lips.  
  
“It’s, uh. Black Flag. The band,” Frank offered, kind of clueless as to what else to say even though the name was on the patch as well.  
  
“Ahh,” the man made. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I think I’ve heard of them before. They make, like, rock music, right?”  
  
Frank gave a small nod. “Something like that...” he mumbled.  
  
“Cool. Uh, I hope this is not weird, but I’m kinda glad to see you again. Here, I mean. At 7,” he joked, and then, to Frank’s dismay, took a few steps closer with his hand extracted in order to shake Frank’s. “It’s good to see, like, a familiar face in all this. People make me nervous. I’m Gerard, by the way.”  
  
“Frank,” Frank answered briefly. He shook the man’s hand politely, and pointedly ignored the way his body tensed as they touched. Gerard was even prettier up close, his face so honest and… vulnerable. Breakable. Just right here for Frank to take.  
  
“Nice to meet you, Frank.” Gerard’s shy face turned into a big grin, all teeth and excited and fucking adorable, and Frank just had to look away. Luckily the elevator finally came to a halt so he could step outside and get some distance between himself and Gerard. “Why are you here?”  
  
“Oh, uh.” Frank refrained from rolling his eyes. Well, he _could_ just tell Gerard what a fuck up he was, get him scared and be left alone, but he kind of didn’t _want_ to be left alone for the very first time in a long while. And Gerard was too beautiful to be sent away.  
  
Coming here still scared Frank, but the first time had been by far the worst. He hadn’t even known Eleanor, and there’d been so many new people, he hadn’t known whether he’d fit in, he’d had to admit to his problems for the very first time… And Gerard seemed to suffer from some serious mood shifts and general issues with his like, way of expressing himself. Frank could see why he clung to him so much. “You’ll find out in a few,” he dodged the question, offering Gerard a smile to make up for it. “I mean, I feel more comfortable if I only have to talk about it once, you know?”  
  
“Fuck, of course,” Gerard said quietly. Suddenly the happy grin was gone, and he was looking down, seeming ashamed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about that first. That was stupid. I didn’t mean to-”  
  
“Hey, no, it’s cool. Seriously,” Frank interrupted him quickly. “What about you? If you wanna talk about it?”  
  
Gerard looked taken aback by Frank changing the topic so abruptly. For a moment he kept staring at him after Frank had finished speaking, then visibly forced himself to continue their conversation. Frank couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Just a little. He usually wasn’t one to feel sympathetic with, well, _anyone_ , but especially not with good-looking guys, who were even very clearly willing to surrender to him. He’d still fuck Gerard in a heartbeat if the circumstances were different, sure, but something about the way he kept trembling and was so visibly shifting between being utterly comfortable talking with Frank and apologizing profusely was kind of worrying. It wasn’t normal, Frank was sure of that.  
  
“I kind of got an eating disorder,” Gerard told him with a frown, unnecessarily gesturing towards his slim body. “I mean, I’m not actually anorexic, but… my therapist is worried, and she said it could become dangerous, so...”  
  
“Well, you don’t look bad,” Frank responded to cheer him up, only realizing Gerard must’ve taken his compliment a completely different way when the other man giggled, a blush on his cheeks.  
  
“Thank you, Frank. You don’t look so bad yourself,” he said suggestively. Frank decided not to mention he hadn’t meant to flirt with him.  
  
He preferred this Gerard over the nervous train wreck he’d probably become if he brought it up. Besides, Frank was kind of totally fine with Gerard smirking at him like that, and he was kind of totally fine with how he had to suppress a moan imagining wiping that smirk right off his face and replacing it with a pained expression, one pleading for mercy… For right now he was okay with it, anyway. He still had to work on his self-control. At least they were still walking next to each other, and Frank hadn’t dragged him into some kind of closet and ripped the clothes off Gerard’s skinny body yet.  
  
They’d reached room 043 but still had a couple of minutes to spare. Kind of liking where this was going, Frank held the door open for Gerard, earning another cute giggle and a shy “Thank you”. Frank loved them polite.  
  
Deep down he knew he was allowing himself an awful lot here, especially because he’d had these dark thoughts about Gerard from the very first _second_ he’d looked at him. He needed to be careful. But he managed not to focus on any of that. So Frank was okay with Gerard having a seat right next to him, and he was okay with Gerard babbling about this and that and where he’d seen Black Flag’s logo before. He also was okay with being the one to introduce Gerard to how this group therapy worked, to calm him down a little and, to be the one taking that fear from him. And Frank was very okay with Gerard suddenly realizing he was still wearing his jacket, getting up and taking it off with a chuckle, finally revealing more of his body. His tee revealed how skinny he really was, skinnier than Frank would’ve thought, as he’d only really seen him in his jacket until then. But Gerard didn’t look _sick_. He looked fucking fine. Frank especially loved his slightly feminine hips, or how perfect his ass looked in those tight pants. Maybe his ass didn’t need pants to look great. Maybe Gerard’s ass just was fucking perfect. Frank really wanted to find out.

By the time Eleanor had a seat somewhere opposite Frank and Gerard, most seats were taken. Apparently Frank had misjudged the other members’ eagerness to be a part of this group, because it turned out the weather hadn’t kept that many from coming here. He saw Lucy giving him a friendly wave and offered a polite nod in return, then scanned the room for the older guy that had called him a child molester a week ago, and although they’d kind of talked it out, he was oddly relieved to see he hadn’t come today.  
  
“Welcome, everyone,” Eleanor said warmly, drawing everyone’s attention to her. Frank felt Gerard tense up a little and could barely resist the urge to pat his thigh or something. “Thank you for coming, it’s amazing for me to be sitting here with all of you brave souls who decided to come here despite it raining cats and dogs outside. I bet some of you would’ve preferred to munch away on some snacks in front of your TV instead, right? Myself included, honestly.”  
  
Gerard chuckled softly, leaning in to whisper in Frank’s ear. “I actually got a new DVD yesterday. For tonight,” he rasped. Frank could only really focus on the way his breath tickled his neck, fuck, this guy was making it really hard for him, and he wasn’t even fucking aware. So innocent. So easy. “Just in case I didn’t have the guts to come here again. I was kind of insecure. It’s funny she knows exactly what I would’ve done instead of coming here. She seems great.”  
  
“She is,” Frank affirmed briefly. Nobody but them was talking, and he couldn’t help but feel like Gerard was being disrespectful, even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose. It didn't seem like he was aware of what other people thought about him, most of the time. He didn't behave like a normal person. Thinking about it, Frank was kind of astonished the guy was here just because of his _eating problems_. He’d been so sure there was something up with his brain. The way he presented himself, the way he talked. The fucking mood swings. His actions often seemed disproportionate and insecure. Well, maybe he was just incredibly socially awkward. Frank could kind of relate to that.  
  
“I see some new faces today. For those of you who don’t know me yet, I’m Eleanor, I’m here to help and support you. I’m your friend, your consultant, whatever you want me to be. Thank you for joining us, we won’t let you down. I hope you’ll have a great time here.”  
  
The usual introduction routine began, starting with a guy sitting on Eleanor’s left. Frank forced himself to listen to his name and age and issues, because everything was better than letting himself get turned on by Gerard. The guy seemed to be nervous still. He kept moving his hands through his damp hair and over his thighs, fingers tapping against the denim of his pants impatiently. What was really driving Frank mad were the tiny sighs Gerard emitted every now and then. They sounded like little moans, like Gerard was fucking pleading with Frank to fuck him right the hell there. Frank kind of hated everything about Gerard just then, but even more so about himself. Eleanor’s presence made him regret letting Gerard get to him. She reminded him of how he’d been making _progress_ , and that he was here to become a better person, not make all of his mistakes all over again.  
  
Besides, Gerard was about to find out what kind of person Frank was. And then he’d be weirded out, maybe – hopefully – even scared, and then he’d never talk to him again. Which was good. 

“Should I tell them we’re friends?” Gerard semi-whispered, forcing Frank out of his thoughts.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Should I tell them we’re friends?” Gerard repeated a little louder. “I mean, would that be bad for like, others to approach me? I don’t wanna seem unapproachable.”  
  
“You...” Frank faltered, not really knowing what to say. At all. “Just tell them whatever you’re comfortable with,” he responded eventually. “There’s no right and wrong.”  
  
“Okay dokay,” Gerard made, giggling to himself as he sat back in his chair with his arms folded in front of his chest, watching the girl who was talking right now. Frank let out a little sigh himself.  
  
It was Gerard’s turn a few minutes later. He was trembling again, but not as bad as earlier. “I’m Gerard, and… I kind of have an eating disorder. I mean, I’m not actually anorexic, but… my therapist is worried, and she said it could become dangerous, so...”  
  
Frank frowned. He’d heard him say those words just a few minutes ago, those words exactly. Gerard had even emphasized the same words and paused at the exact same moments, which okay, was kind of… weird? Frank didn’t know what to make of it and instinctively looked at Eleanor for advice, who of course had no idea there was anything odd about Gerard’s statement and merely offered him a smile.  
  
“Can you tell us what ‘kind of an eating disorder’ means?” she asked Gerard gently.  
  
“Oh, uh,” Gerard stumbled, suddenly at a loss for words. It seemed as if he’d committed the other sentence to memory and now didn’t really know what to say, which maybe wasn’t that weird after all. Frank used the same trick. He just hadn’t expected Gerard to come up with something like that straight away; it had taken him a few meetings to figure out just saying the same thing over and over was easier than having to rephrase his weirdness twice a week. But Gerard didn’t seem to be making such a big deal out of it, it didn't seem like talking about his problem bothered him. So maybe it was weird, after all? Frank didn’t know. This guy was a piece of work, he could tell. “It’s like… My therapist said I have like, tendencies. She can see me going there, but I’m not actually in danger. Or anything. Does that… make sense?”  
  
Eleanor nodded, wiping Gerard’s worried facial expression away with another warm smile. “Are you seeing your therapist because of the same issue?”  
  
“N-No. I’ve been seeing her… for a long time, for lots of things. I-I mean, I’m not like, _crazy_ ,” he said with a chuckle. A definitely not very sane chuckle. “She’s just someone I talk to. I… I trust her. She says I tend to isolate myself, and she… helps me.”  
  
“That makes a lot of sense, Gerard, I’m glad she can be there for you like that. Do you want to share why you’re here?”  
  
“It was her suggestion, too,” Gerard said quieter than before, as if he was ashamed to admit how much he depended on that person. “Mainly because of the isolation thing. And the eating thing. She said… she said maybe there’s someone here who can help me through it, someone who’s making similar experiences?”  
  
A blonde woman Frank had seen around before cleared her throat, making Gerard look at her. “I’m here for you,” she said kindly. “I was in this hospital because I’d almost killed myself not eating a couple of years ago. Let me know if you need anything.”  
  
“Thank you, Jessica. I’m glad you can talk about it so freely.”  
  
“Thank you, Jessica,” Gerard copied her, offering the woman a grateful smile.  
  
“Your therapist really had a great idea sending you here, Gerard,” Eleanor continued, making sure to maintain eye contact with Gerard as she spoke. “What’s so great about this group is that all kinds of people come here, people with so, so many different stories. But they all share the wish to become better, they all wanna help and be helped. I’m sure Jessica will help you a lot, but you can talk to anyone here, Gerard. We’re all here for you.”  
  
“I’ve already talked to Frank,” Gerard announced proudly. Frank had kind of hoped he’d forgotten about mentioning him, but then again, it wasn’t like it mattered. They’d talked in the elevator – nothing else. Gerard didn’t know about the thoughts he’d been having, so it wasn’t like he could tell Eleanor about them. “He’s already made me love it here. He’s been really kind. He even held the door open for me.”  
  
“Sounds like something Frank would do,” Eleanor commented. Frank searched her face for any kind of sarcasm, anything that would hint at her seeing right through his friendly facade, but her smile was genuine. “Frank’s had a difficult past, but he’s a good man. I’m glad you two get along.”  
  
“He wouldn’t tell me about his past...” Gerard admitted, sounding disappointed that Eleanor knew Frank better than he did.  
  
Eleanor chuckled softly. “Well, I imagine you guys didn’t have that much time to talk yet. Frank, maybe now you want to tell Gerard and all the others about yourself?”  
  
“Yeah, okay.” Frank took a long breath, mentally preparing himself for making Gerard hate him. He should be happy to get rid of him, because honestly, Gerard’s babbling was kind of annoying, and he knew that if they got any closer, it would just end in a mess. But there was something about Gerard that he kind of liked. Maybe how incredibly amazed he was by the little things Frank had done for him, maybe how enthusiastically he’d told everyone how great Frank was when he didn’t even know him at all. Gerard was weird. But the kind of weird that made Frank want him to stick around a little longer. Not too long, not too closely, just… a little longer. “So. I’m Frank. I’m thirty-two. I like playing the guitar,” he said mechanically, hiding a grin when Gerard whispered a _‘That’s so cool’_ under his breath.  
  
“Why did you decide to join this group, Frank?” Eleanor asked calmly.  
  
Here it came. “There’s something wrong with me. Like, seriously wrong,” Frank began cautiously. He couldn’t help but watch Gerard in the corner of his eye, somehow wanting to catch the moment he realized how dangerous Frank was, maybe because something inside of him hoped he could change his mind. “I… I like seeing people in pain. I like inflicting pain. Especially during sex,” he said in a rush.  
  
Eleanor asked him the usual questions. Had something changed in his behavior since the last meeting, had something significant happened that Frank wanted to share, was there anything on Frank’s mind he needed to voice? Frank responded without really thinking about it. He was just focusing on the man next to him, trying to read him without being too obvious, somehow needing him to understand, but not really knowing _what_ he wanted him to do, either.  
  
Finally the girl next to him was asked to introduce herself, and Frank could risk a glance at Gerard. He was looking straight back at him, eyes wide open, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit. It looked like he was thinking, probably trying to understand how fucked up Frank actually was, trying to digest the danger he’d put himself in. But after a moment, Gerard smiled at Frank. Not even the pitying or encouraging smile he usually got. An honest, totally insouciant smile. And then he looked down at his hands in his lap, still smiling to himself, still just sitting there, not seeming bothered by how Frank the freak was right next to him.  
  
The guy had to be out of his fucking mind.  
  
Maybe that smile had just been his polite smile, Frank pondered as person after person introduced themselves, the minutes passing by slowly. Gerard had said he was isolated. He probably didn’t have any friends, or maybe he didn’t even know how friendships worked. He’d called Frank his friend after talking to him for roughly ten minutes, after all. Maybe he was desperate enough to cling to what he’d established with Frank so far. And Frank really couldn’t decide whether that was something he liked or not.  
  
Gerard was… interesting. Gerard was nice to look at. And Gerard had at least heard about Black Flag before, which increased his coolness by like, a lot. But obviously, Gerard wasn’t a person who could be Frank’s _friend_. He was kind of annoying and incredibly naive, it would be so fucking easy for Frank to have his way with him. Which _couldn’t_ happen. Frank hadn’t come to this fucking support group for about a month to meet a guy who’d toss him back to where he’d started. He wasn’t doing that to himself. The best thing would be to just tell Gerard to fuck off. He seemed sensitive enough to obey mindlessly, and would probably never even dare talk to Frank again. Frank should do that. Like, right now. Just push Gerard away, for both of their safety. Gerard didn’t know what he let himself in for just by trying to be Frank’s friend.  
  
“Alright, everybody.” Eleanor’s gentle voice stopped Frank’s mess of thoughts, and he realized the first part of this session was over. Which was good. Frank was itching to get home and forget about Gerard and fight another battle trying to convince himself just never coming back here would help his case, so the sooner they would be finished, the better. “Today I’d like to focus on getting to know one individual in this group instead of focusing on two to four different people at a time. We’re twenty-six people here today, so nobody will be left out. Please find your partner now.”  
  
Of course Gerard was already grinning at Frank when he glanced at him briefly, wiggling his eyebrows and totally making Frank’s previous intentions fly out of the window. Fucking bastard. “Wanna be my partner?” he unnecessarily asked.  
  
“Actually…” Frank began, desperately trying to come up with anything to say. He tried to recall what he’d been thinking before, how horribly this could and would end for them. But then again, it seemed a pretty long shot. Gerard was just asking for a conversation, after all, he wasn’t on his knees begging for Frank to make him scream. “I was gonna ask you the same question,” he concluded, watching Gerard’s face light up even more, and flinching slightly at the small squeal he let out.  
  
“Great! So, what are we supposed to do?” he wanted to know eagerly.  
  
Frank tried not to be too impressed by how his eyes twinkled. “Um. Just talk, basically. Doesn’t matter about what.”  
  
“So can I ask you a question?”  
  
“Sure,” Frank shrugged.  
  
Gerard’s smile faltered a bit as his face got more serious. He leaned forward a bit, towards Frank, and lowered his voice. “Can you tell me about this pain thing you have?”  
  
“I...” Frank hesitated. Of course he wanted to know about that shit. He’d always managed to avoid answering any specific questions, and he’d really like to keep it that way… But then again, maybe it was good if Gerard got some details. “Well. It’s, uh, it’s like… you know how some people are into specific things? Like… I don’t know, having sex in public. Or wearing lingerie, or latex, or… fucking peeing on each other, shit like that. It’s hurting people for me.”  
  
“So you’re like a dominant?” Gerard asked, not seeming bothered by the subject at all. It was kind of unsettling. But at the same time, Frank felt himself opening up to Gerard without having to think about it, because man, it felt good to just get it out. Gerard appeared to be cool with discussing this, hell, he was _interested_ in what Frank had to say. Frank was way too happy about that to consider stopping him right there.  
  
“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “I like to have power over people, make them depend on me, and like… well, hurt them.”  
  
Gerard let out a hum, his confused expression returning after a second. “Okay. But I don’t get why you’re here? I mean, shouldn’t you be like, in one of those kinky clubs looking for some chick who’s into getting treated like that?”  
  
“I’m not looking for any chicks...” Frank said, trying to ignore the way Gerard’s face fucking glowed at that. “And no. It’s… it’s more complicated than that. I don’t wanna be like that anymore because… something’s happened, something bad, and I can’t… I can’t be that person anymore.”  
  
“What happened?” Gerard urged.  
  
Frank did hesitate then. He wasn’t sure Gerard needed _that_ many details. Plus, he’d never shared the big _what_ with anyone, not even Eleanor knew that much. He’d basically just met Gerard, and this… this was too much. “I hurt someone real bad,” he explained after a moment, looking down at his lap instead of Gerard’s eager face. “Too bad. I took it too far without realizing, I made him go further than he could, and I ruined… everything.”  
  
Another hum from Gerard, quiet and weirdly calming. As if he understood, although clearly he didn’t or he wouldn’t be sitting next to Frank anymore. “So… he made you come here?”  
  
“No,” Frank said. “No, I mean. Not really. That _something_ that happened made me realize there was something seriously wrong with me, he didn’t force me to come here or anything, we don’t even talk anymore. He didn’t make me wanna change myself, he just… he showed me I needed to change myself. You know?”  
  
“Huh,” Gerard made, pondering. “I think so? It’s kinda hard to understand because I don’t know what happened.”  
  
“I lost control,” Frank sighed. “I was furious and I lost control and I… I fucked up.”  
  
Gerard placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder, making him flinch. It took Frank a moment to come to the conclusion he didn’t mind the contact, and another one to realize this was the first time since forever that anyone had touched him, meaningless handshakes excluded. And being touched felt… _good_. Really good.  
  
“You need to forgive yourself, Frank,” Gerard told him seriously. “Whatever you did, it’s in your past, and there’s nothing you can do to change it, but now you’re here to get better, you should be proud of yourself. I am proud.”  
  
Frank was about to shake it off, tell Gerard it was nothing and that he just needed to get over himself, but when he looked up, there were tears in Gerard’s eyes. He was fucking crying.  
  
“What the hell?” he couldn’t help but say, making Gerard whimper and lower his hand. “I mean…” he started again. This was one of the moments he wished he was more compassionate and didn’t have to force himself to sound moved by whatever was going through Gerard’s head, and not weirded out by him crying over… whatever he was crying about “Are you okay?”  
  
“Oh, yeah,” Gerard said quickly, wiping the tears away. “I-I’m sorry, Frank, I just… I respect you so much for standing up for yourself and trying to be a better person, and I can tell you _are_ a good person, and it’s just so sad to see how some dick made you feel this bad about yourself.”  
  
“No, Gerard, you don’t understand,” Frank protested. He forced himself to focus on bringing his point across and not how Gerard visibly trembled when Frank raised his voice the tiniest bit, eyes hurrying down, head lowered. That man would be the perfect submissive, so obedient and loyal already, and he barely even knew Frank. “He’s not the one you should blame. It’s really my fault, I hurt him.”  
  
“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled, still not meeting Frank’s eyes. “I’m sorry, this must be so weird for you. Please don’t think I’m weird, Frank, I just… I can’t see you doing bad things, you’re such a good person!”  
  
“I’m not,” Frank said bittersweetly. He really didn’t see where Gerard was coming from. He’d even been kind of rude to him before, and mostly avoided him in order to ignore the urge to get his cock inside of Gerard and his hands around his throat.  
  
No sane person could possibly think Frank to be a decent human being.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all: I'm sorry! D: You guys have no idea for how long I've wanted to post this but I've just been so damn busy. I hope some of you are still here - thanks to anyone who hasn't given up on me haha. Also sorry if I didn't reply to your comment, I read and appreciated all of them.
> 
> Because it's been f o r e v e r since the last chapter, here's a quick summary for anyone who doesn't remember what the fuck this story is about (again, sorry):  
> So basically, the first chapter introduces the main characters (Frank and Gee, who would have guessed). Frank's in a group therapy session, and because he kind of drifts off we learn about his background story, his current life, and why he's in therapy in the first place. It becomes clear that his problem is related to him being a sadist. He introduces us to his sexual preferences, and how he discovered them, and all that stuff, but he makes clear that he isn't just into the usual BDSM shit, but there's actually more to it because obviously, he wouldn't be going to therapy if it were just a kink. He has a problem controlling himself and has done _something_ to someone that he thinks is unforgivable and that's made him want to change, feeling like he couldn't live with himself if he didn't. So he's all about becoming a better person but he's extremely critical with himself and still believes that the others can't really help him and that he only gets judged and he hates it, but at the same time, he feels like he deserves it, and he also just really _needs_ help, because he keeps having these thoughts and fantasies he thinks are not okay to have, so it's really just a whole bunch of confusing inner conflicts, and not even Frank knows what he actually wants in life.  
>  Then, at the end of the session, he meets Gerard, who in this story is a couple of years younger than Frank and really insecure and moody. He's also there for the therapy but he's way too late, and when Frank tells him so, he gets really upset and even more submissive, and Frank honestly can't take it. He finds Gerard incredibly attractive and would just love to ravish him and become his previous self again, just because it would be so damn easy to do all that to Gerard. But of course that would get him back to square one and all his efforts would be for nothing and he gets even angrier with himself for even thinking about anything like that.  
> In the next chapter, we learn a little more about Frank's current life. Although he'd decided against it after meeting Gerard, he ends up going to therapy again. He runs into Gerard and forces himself to talk to him normally because Gerard seems fragile and although he feels like he should, Frank doesn't have it in him to scare Gerard off. Gerard tells him that has an eating disorder, but Frank is fairly sure that he isn't telling him the whole truth because Gerard keeps having weird mood swings. At first, he's really jumpy around Frank, scared to do anything wrong, but then he acts like they've known each other for years and even flirts a little bit with him. During the session, Gerard finds out about Frank's condition, and although Frank had dreaded that because he kind of enjoyed all the attention Gerard was giving him and although he knows they can't spend too much time together, he would have liked to keep him around just a little longer. But against his expectations, Gerard isn't scared by Frank's dark secret, but rather intrigued by it. He asks him lots of questions that Frank isn't really ready to answer, and almost treats him like some sort of majesty who thinks Frank is the greatest person he's ever met. This leaves Frank even more confused as to what he should do with the whole situation but at the same time, he's certain that something is seriously wrong with Gerard.
> 
> Okay, not sure if this summary is any good. Of course, you can go back and read the chapters again if you want to, I just didn't expect anyone to want to read it all over again. So let's continue where we left off, shall we?

Whenever Frank was bored, his mind wandered off. There was so much shit he never really wanted to think about, but once his thoughts had started drifting, it was hard to stop himself. He thought about his childhood, his parents, his former friends, his former lovers, his former self, all the things that had changed, and that he’d lost forever. Frank hated being bored. And yet, he never bothered to really entertain himself.

There was a part of Frank that had a thing for self-destruction, and he was aware of that. He was _fine_ with that. He liked torturing himself. But this – this was worse than torture. Every second lasted an hour, he had a headache, he was hungry, and he was aching for a smoke. He was so fucking bored.

Frank was having a shitty Monday, probably the shittiest Monday anyone had ever had. Things had been shitty for a couple of days now, but somehow, something had always been up, something to distract him a little. But today, everything had just crashed down on him, right when he’d woken up this noon. The doubts, the desire to just go back to how it had been before, asking himself why he was even making himself go through all this shit. But at the same time, the memories of that one night became more prominent than ever, ridiculing him as he was sitting on his couch in his empty apartment. Frank just felt so stuck. Like he knew he couldn’t go back, but he also knew that there was no way he’d ever make an actual improvement.

Still, he’d somehow convinced himself to go to the support group that evening. Maybe looking for more distraction, maybe hoping to fuck Gerard, he couldn’t fucking tell anymore. He had no idea what he wanted.

And because the world hated him just as much as he hated the world, he’d seen _him_. Walking on the other side of the street, with some buff guy's arm around his shoulders and a lovestruck smile on his face. Frank was a jealous person. He knew he had no right to have any feelings for him anymore, he knew it wasn’t his place, and that if he were a somewhat decent human being, he’d be happy for him or some shit like that. But when Frank had seen the reason for his misery just walking and chatting, as if nothing had ever happened to him, he’d felt anything but happy. He’d felt possessive. Urged to go over there and do… something. He didn’t know what.

But his new boyfriend was tall and looked like he frequented the gym, which gave Frank a pretty good reason to hide in an alley instead. He’d sat there for about ten minutes, trying to calm the fuck down, weighing his options. It had been cold and dark, but at least no one had bothered him. He’d just wanted to go home. But then he’d never get better, and that was what he wanted. Right?

After a few calming smokes, he’d ended up in the hospital, after all. He’d been still on time but just barely so, and everyone had already been sitting on their chairs. Expecting Gerard to be there, like he’d been the last two Mondays, Frank’s eyes had rushed from face to face, looking for Gerard’s pretty one, feeling a little excited for the first time that day. But he wasn’t there. Feeling even more disappointed, Frank had let his body slump onto one of the chairs, now wishing he’d gone home. He didn’t know why, but he’d subconsciously really looked forward to seeing Gerard again. Not even necessarily because he wanted to have sex with him, but Gerard was just… so different. Unlike anyone else in this stupid fucking group. Gerard was interested in him, Gerard _cared._

But he wasn’t here, so everything was back to normal. No one cared about Frank, everything was excruciatingly boring, and Frank was a little angrier with himself with every passing minute. Then he became angry with Gerard for leaving him alone, even though he could’ve really used some company today. Which only made him angrier with himself. He didn’t need Gerard. He didn’t need anyone.

The session ended without Frank participating. He was too caught up with his thoughts to listen to anyone, and when it had been his turn to introduce himself, he hadn't spoken more than a few words. He should’ve stayed at home. Hell, he should never leave his fucking apartment again.

He decided not to stay to eat. Although he hadn’t eaten all day, his fridge being empty apart from something moldy, and he felt like he was fucking starving, Frank headed for the door. He just couldn’t take this anymore. He needed to be alone. Maybe do some grocery shopping first.

Except when he finally stepped outside room 043, someone was waiting for him. Someone with ebony hair and wide, nervous eyes that seemed to shine when they landed on Frank.  
  
“Gerard? What are you doing here?” Frank asked with a frown.  
  
His expression seemed to unsettle Gerard. He swallowed, eyes hurrying to the floor, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. God, did he look good. So fragile and submissive. It felt like he was being especially submissive just then, but maybe it only seemed like that to Frank. He really couldn’t deal with Gerard today. It was dangerous. For Gerard… But also for Frank. He’d been in a weird mood, and just seeing Gerard looking at the floor like that, offering himself to Frank without even being aware of it, made his cock stir in his pants. This wasn’t good.

“I… I wanted to come,” he explained quietly. His unsteady voice was angelic. Frank didn’t get what he was so nervous about – it wasn’t like he’d shouted at him or anything, and until a few moments ago, Gerard had looked enthusiastic to talk to him. Maybe these mood swings were just something he had to get used to with Gerard. Frank had seen him a couple of times by then, yet it still was hard to tell what was going on in the younger man’s head. He was unpredictable… Frank liked it. “But I was almost ten minutes late, and… I didn’t want to… to go in that late.”

“Why not?” Frank asked, forcing himself to sound gentle. “Eleanor wouldn’t have minded. Nobody would’ve said anything about it.”  
  
Gerard frowned, still not meeting Frank’s eyes. “I was… scared. I didn’t want any attention on me.”  
  
“Huh,” Frank made. He refused to tell Gerard how disappointed he’d been realizing he wasn’t there, and that his presence definitely would’ve been the highlight of Frank’s day. Obviously, he was going to keep that to himself. “Okay, then. So why are you still here?”  
  
“I wanted to talk to you,” Gerard admitted and offered Frank a bashful smile. “I thought… Well, I was looking forward to seeing you today. And just because I’m so stupid, I didn’t wanna ruin that for us. So maybe we can get dinner and… hang out? If you want?”

For a moment, Frank was too stunned to reply. Of course, Gerard would suggest something like that today. On a day where Frank didn’t even know who he was anymore or what he even wanted. But the offer was so tempting. Frank couldn’t deny that the prospect of getting to spend some time with Gerard after all made his stomach clench weirdly. That Gerard had waited for him, wanting to spend time with him. So of course, Frank said yes.

* * *

  
Gerard owned a car, which was a luxury item Frank could only dream about. He used to have a car a couple of months back, but when his life turned to shit, he’d had to sell it. He hadn’t been in a car for such a long time – usually, he just walked from one place to the other, or, if the distance was too long, he took the bus. He couldn’t afford cabs.  
  
So maybe it only felt that way because Frank wasn’t used to driving around, but Gerard was an absolute shit driver. He was reckless, uncoordinated, and ignored at least five stop signs. Frank couldn’t believe he even had a license. He wasn’t complaining, though. He didn’t value his life all that much anymore, anyway. And if they made it to the diner Frank had suggested, Frank would have to admit this was a much more pleasant way to make one’s way through town. He’d grown tired of walking.  
  
They did arrive eventually. Gerard held the door open for Frank in a gentlemanly manner, seemed disproportionally happy about Frank thanking him for it, and then followed Frank through the small room to a booth in the corner. Frank didn’t like being in the center of rooms. It made him feel watched; he preferred having nothing but solid walls behind himself instead of people he couldn’t keep an eye on.  
  
Sitting there – _hanging out_ – with Gerard was incredibly awkward. Even though he was a nice guy, and there was nothing wrong with getting dinner with him, Frank’s mind kept drifting off to other things he could be doing with Gerard instead. He’d always had a thing for risky sex, sex in public, where anyone could walk in on them. Like, in the alley behind a diner, for example…  
  
With his stomach grumbling, Frank decided to ignore the awkward silence spreading out between them and reached for the menu. He used to come here pretty often a few months back because it wasn't too far away from his apartment, but still far away for it not to be shabby, and the food was pretty good. But he hadn’t been able to afford going out for dinner for quite some time. They had made a couple of changes to the menu, he realized, but his favorite veggie burger was still on it. He frowned at the menu for a moment, thinking about how he'd have to cut back on groceries if he was going to eat here, and contemplating whether he should just wait until he got home. But as if he'd read Frank's mind, Gerard then offered to pay, and Frank was way too hungry not to accept his offer.  
  
He’d hadn’t expected Gerard to order something as well. After all, he had an eating disorder. Apparently. But he ordered a burger bigger than Frank’s, telling him he was starving when Frank could just frown at him, a shy smile still on his lips. Frank wondered whether he should bring up that Gerard went to therapy because he didn’t eat enough, and that this absolutely made no sense, but he guessed he’d better keep quiet about it. He’d probably never understand how Gerard’s brain worked.  
  
“So, Frank,” Gerard said after the waitress had taken their orders, making Frank look up at him. It was odd sitting across from him, so close, after not seeing him for a whole week. Gerard still was incredibly pretty. It was breath-taking, even in the sparse light. Frank _wanted_ him. But he knew he couldn’t have him. “Tell me about yourself? I mean, we’ve known each other for a while, but I don’t really know anything about you.”  
  
_A while_. They’d sat next to each other during fucking group therapy. Frank felt like that shouldn’t be considered knowing each other _for a while_. “What do you wanna know?” he asked anyway. Because even if he didn’t know Gerard well - by now he’d learned that upsetting him wasn’t good. He got upset because of the weirdest things, because he _was_ fucking weird, and Frank didn’t want him to cause a scene or anything. He didn’t wanna have to walk back home.  
  
“Just tell me whatever comes to your mind first,” Gerard suggested with a grin. “Anything at all.”  
  
“Oh. Okay.” The first thing that came to Frank’s head when he thought about himself… Well, he didn’t wanna go there right now. He didn’t want to tell Gerard about how he hated himself because of what he’d done, that he felt like he could only define himself by that, only by his issues, and that everything else was kind of built around his mistakes. His problems. He didn’t have a fun job, or a nice house, or interesting hobbies. Gerard already knew that he played the guitar, even though he had to admit that he hadn't even touched the fucking thing in months. He didn’t even have friends he could talk about. His life was pretty shit. “Well, I like… I like dogs,” he said eventually, realizing he’d been thinking for a little too long.  
  
Gerard beamed at him. “Aw, me too! Do you have a dog?”  
  
“No,” Frank said, shaking his head. “I, uh, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to take care of it. I don’t have enough space, and... I’m not really responsible.” He remembered his empty fridge, imagining what it would be like to have a dog at his place. The poor thing.  
  
“You’re great,” Gerard argued determinedly. “Where do you live, then?”  
  
“Just this small apartment. It’s… It’s not really in the nice part of town. I don’t have much money,” Frank found himself admitting. He hoped Gerard wouldn’t ask about his job. He wasn’t too excited about talking about washing dishes all night.  
  
Gerard seemed to sense he didn’t want to delve into the subject any further and simply gave an understanding nod. “I don’t make that much money, either,” he told him. “But I inherited quite a lot a few years ago. From my grandmother. I also live in her house. It’s pretty big, too big for me, actually, so… if you ever need a place-”  
  
“Oh, I’m good, Gerard,” Frank interrupted him, causing Gerard to flinch. “I mean, I do have my own place. Thank you, though.”  
  
He didn’t know what exactly Gerard had wanted to suggest, whether he’d wanted Frank to stay over for just a small amount of time or move in altogether. Just a few years back, Frank wouldn’t have hesitated a single second getting invited by a man this pretty, but this was different. Frank was trying to become a better version of his old self. He couldn’t allow himself to go there.  
  
“Oh, sorry.” Gerard said. “I just… I thought, you know. Since I haven’t even earned it, I could at least share, I didn’t mean to- to be weird or anything. I’m sorry.”  
  
He was looking down at his hands, looking genuinely sad. Frank hated the effect that seeing him like that had on him. “Shit, it’s okay,” he forced out. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I know you meant well.”  
  
Gerard nodded meekly. “I’m sorry, Frank.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Frank sighed. Jesus, these mood swings were hard to get used to. It seemed like Gerard was incredibly insecure about pretty much everything he did, like he’d do anything to make Frank like him. No grown-up man should act this way. Gerard needed to have opinions. He should be able to stand up for himself. _At least_ he shouldn’t beat himself up over something so damn petty. “Look, I’m not mad or anything,” Frank added after a moment. “Do you wanna… Tell me some stuff about yourself?”  
  
“Okay,” Gerard replied quietly. Head bowed, voice timid. God, he was making this so hard for Frank…  
  
“Okay,” Frank repeated, trying to sound cheerful. “So, you talked about your grandma. Were you close?”  
  
Gerard briefly looked up at him, looking even sadder. Well, maybe talking about dead relatives wasn’t the best way to get someone to smile. “Kinda. But I’m not really close with my family,” Gerard mumbled.  
  
Frank frowned. “Why not?” If he’d been abandoned by his family at an early age, Frank could almost understand why Gerard was the way he was. It would fit. Kind of. The man seemed desperate for Frank’s approval. Frank was a little older than him… Maybe he just wanted someone to look up to? Some kind of role model? If so, Frank was about the worst person he could’ve picked. But then, why would his grandma leave him a house?  
  
“My parents, they say they don’t understand me. They want to help but they say it’s hard.”  
  
“Help?” Frank repeated with a frown. So he hadn’t been abandoned by them… “With what?”  
  
Gerard blushed, his eyes hurrying down. “Well, they… they tried helping me find my place in this world but it didn’t work. I got tired of them, they got tired of me… I don’t talk to them anymore.”  
  
“Oh.” Frank shrugged, trying to show Gerard that it was alright, so he wouldn’t have a heart attack or anything. He kind of looked like it. “As long as you’re okay with that, that’s fine… I don’t talk to my parents all that much, either.”  
  
“Sometimes I’m really angry with them,” Gerard admitted.  
  
“Why?”  
  
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Because they can live their normal lives, and I… I’m stuck.”  
  
“Because of your eating disorder?” Frank wanted to know.  
  
Gerard hesitated before he nodded. “Yeah. Because of that...”  
  
Frank could tell there was more to it, but Gerard was already nervous enough. If he didn’t wanna tell him, that was okay. It wasn’t like they were actual friends. Maybe it was good if Frank didn’t know much about him; he didn’t want to find himself using Gerard’s weaknesses against him.  
  
“I also have a brother,” Gerard said then, surprising Frank by speaking. “I miss him, haven’t spoken to him in a long time.”  
  
“Why don’t you talk to him if you miss him?”  
  
“He… he’s always so concerned. He asks lots of questions. I don’t like it,” Gerard said, almost too quiet for Frank to catch. “Makes me feel insecure.”  
  
Frank wanted to ask why he didn’t just tell his brother so. He probably knew him pretty well, he’d understand. But Frank didn’t wanna be the next person Gerard wanted to distance himself from because they asked too many questions. So he just nodded, acting like Gerard was being perfectly reasonable.  
  
“Thank you for listening to all this, Frank,” Gerard said then, suddenly louder again. “I don’t have many friends. This means a lot. You’re really great.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Frank responded. He knew there was no point in telling Gerard they weren’t friends… He didn’t want to see him in tears again.  
  
“I only have two friends, actually. Well, now I have three.” A shy smile at Frank. “But I can’t really talk to my other two. Ben and I, we never really talk… I mean, we do hang out, and we get drunk together, and other stuff… but he’d never sit down with me to talk about my family. He’s great too, though. He means a lot.”  
  
Frank frowned. “So, is Ben like, your boyfriend or something?” If he was, he was a pretty shit boyfriend, Frank thought. He was relieved to see Gerard shake his head.  
  
“No, no, we’re just friends. We fuck sometimes, though. Is that… okay?” Gerard all but whispered the last word, his eyes pleading for Frank’s approval.  
  
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Frank replied with a shrug. He was surprised by Gerard’s bluntness, but he guessed it wasn’t a problem. “It’s fine, I don’t care what you do with your friends.”  
  
Visibly relieved, Gerard nodded. “Okay. Good, thank you.”  
  
“So you wanna… tell me about that other friend of yours as well?” Frank asked. It was actually really nice to find out more about him, if he was honest. He’d spent more time than he wanted to admit thinking about Gerard, trying to read him better, but Gerard wasn’t an open book. This conversation would make things easier, Frank hoped.  
  
“His name’s Greg. We also… we sometimes fool around, too...” he confessed, yet again looking at Frank timidly. He only continued speaking when Frank shrugged to show he was nonchalant about the matter. Obviously, Gerard really cared about his opinions. For whatever reason. So Frank kept his thoughts to himself. His jealousy, his comments about how Gerard didn’t look like he was getting fucked right, and that he could come to Frank whenever he wanted to find out what _good_ sex felt like… It would’ve crept him out, anyway. “I’m not really that close with him though. I’m not even sure he’s my friend. We only… We only meet when he wants to fuck. We never do anything but that.”  
  
“And you’re okay with that?” Frank asked carefully, not wanting to make Gerard think it was wrong. Of course, a friend would be better companionship for Gerard than some guy who obviously used him for sex, but Frank wasn’t going to interfere. Gerard had a therapist who could talk him out of things like that if they became dangerous. It wasn’t Frank’s job. He just wanted to make sure Gerard didn’t get abused by the fucker, was all.  
  
Surprisingly though, Gerard nodded his head. “I am. I like sex,” he stated, suddenly not all that shy anymore. “I’m good at it.”  
  
For a moment, Frank felt like Gerard was hitting on him. There was so much confidence in that one sentence, confidence Frank hadn’t experienced with Gerard before. He must be reading him wrong, though. Gerard knew what kind of monster he was…  
  
Gerard’s insecure demeanor returned quickly after that. He let out a shy giggle when Frank responded, and then agreed to talk about himself a little more. Maybe this _was_ a date, Frank thought. Gerard had asked him here, he’d offered to pay for his food, they were getting to know each other… Frank wouldn’t know because dates weren’t really his thing. And he didn’t even want to be on a date with Gerard. Maybe this was a one-sided date. Frank was sure that was a thing.  
  
He found out Gerard was currently unemployed. He was eager to find a job, but nobody seemed to want him. It made him feel useless, he said. Frank almost felt sorry for him. Gerard told him about some job interviews he’d had last week, and then asked Frank to talk more about his ‘problem.’ He asked some pretty weird questions too. How he’d gotten into the whole thing, whether he had fucking  _toys_ at home, stuff like that. Reluctantly Frank told him his story and about his little collection he had wanted to get rid of for weeks, but hadn't brought himself to do so yet. Instead, it was stowed away on top of a wardrobe.  
  
It felt like Gerard was _interested_. Like he was totally behind Frank and his weird fetish, like he thought it wasn’t disgusting. It was new to Frank, he didn’t know how to handle it. But it was _nice_. Just talking to Gerard about this shit was so dangerous for the both of them, but Frank couldn’t deny it was good to finally just share his thoughts without being looked at like he was something repelling. He was able to talk about the things he’d liked about being a dom without feeling bad about it. He could share nice experiences he’d made and not feel guilty about them. Gerard was being supportive. Frank didn’t know what to think.  
  
As if Gerard could read Frank’s mind, he asked Frank if he needed to go anywhere else before he brought him home. Frank had almost forgotten his empty fridge by then, but when he mentioned it to Gerard, he offered to stop by a supermarket immediately.  
  
Gerard wanted to pay for Frank's groceries as well but Frank turned down his help. He told him he didn't want to exploit him and luckily Gerard seemed to understand. He insisted on carrying the bags to his car though, and wouldn't take no for an answer. Frank felt a little ashamed when they came to a halt in front of his apartment a few minutes later. The neighborhood really wasn’t nice, and usually he didn't give a fuck about that, but things were different when Gerard was with him. If Gerard had inherited his grandma’s house, he probably didn’t live with drug dealers and prostitutes.

Gerard didn’t comment on it. Instead, he offered to carry the bags to Frank’s apartment, way too nice and friendly, but Frank was determined to carry them himself. He could do it on his own, Gerard didn't need to get out of the car, it wasn’t a big deal. Besides… something about the way Gerard looked at him made Frank think he’d wanted to come upstairs for a whole different reason. He didn’t know if he was right, and he didn’t wanna jinx it, but it would add up so well. Gerard had asked so many questions…  
  
Frank didn’t wanna find out whether he was right. He grabbed the bags from the trunk, said goodbye to Gerard, and made his way upstairs. There was only so much he could take, and for today, he’d definitely reached his limit.


	4. Chapter 4

Frank tried not to think about Gerard too much during the following week. It proved to be pretty hard though. His mind kept wandering off to when he’d told Gerard not to come upstairs with him, and how he’d felt seeing Gerard drive away after that. Part of him had wanted him to stay a little longer. Part of him still wanted to take things further with Gerard, and he couldn’t help but fantasize about what might have happened if he had agreed to Gerard carrying his bags for him.  
  
He wondered what it would be like to show Gerard what he was into. Gerard seemed so awfully invested in Frank’s issues, as if they were talking about something normal, something a lot of people dealt with, and the fact that Frank was into making people hurt and beg wasn’t out of the ordinary at all. Frank’s whole body tingled just thinking about what Gerard would look like realizing he should’ve stayed away, that he shouldn’t have tried to get to know Frank better...  
  
Stopping himself was hard. It had been hard long before Gerard had bumped into him that awful day, but now things were about a hundred times worse. He hated Gerard for what he was doing to him, and he knew it was wrong and dangerous, and that he should just stay away… But he didn’t _want_ to. He’d reached a point where spending time with Gerard was nice because talking to him was so different, so refreshing. Having someone who didn’t judge him, someone who seemed to genuinely care, and adore him like some sort of majesty. Frank liked feeling like that.  
  
Gerard didn’t see what was wrong with him. Which, on one hand, would make proving him wrong so much more fun, but on the other hand… Frank could really use a friend. He hadn’t noticed before because being lonely and focusing on anything but how lonely you are is easy, but as soon as someone makes you realize how lonely you are, it gets hard to ignore that something is just _missing_ in your life. Frank wanted to fill that hole. He still believed in self-punishment and that he didn’t deserve anyone to share his worries with, but it was so easy to give in to what Gerard was offering. Frank was drawn to him, there was no denying that. He hated him, but he couldn’t help craving some company.

It was sad, he realized. He was a complete loser. All it took for him to let his guard down was some pretty boy with low self-esteem, seeking his friendship. Frank didn’t know if they were _friends_ , he doubted it, but since he spent so much time thinking about Gerard, he knew they weren’t complete strangers. And Gerard had called him his friend the second time they had met, so… they probably were?  
  
But it was difficult to read Gerard. Frank died to know what was really going on in Gerard’s pretty head, what his goal in befriending a violent stranger like Frank was, what he wanted from him. Frank hoped that he was misunderstanding and that Gerard didn’t want him in _that_ way, so he’d never have the chance to hurt him like he’d hurt the others. Of course, he wanted to fuck Gerard and give him all that he had until Gerard was just begging for him to stop, but… he couldn’t. That was what the whole stupid support group thing was about, he couldn’t let himself go there. Just thinking about him like this would disappoint Eleanor terribly. Frank liked her. He didn’t want to let her down.  
  
But he really liked fucking people too… And it had been forever since his dick had felt anything but his own hand.  
  
He was conflicted. It was hard to make any decisions because he didn’t even know what he wanted. Fucking Gerard would mean he was back on square one. He’d not only hurt Gerard, but also himself. It would be like proving to himself he couldn’t do anything right, that he should just accept that he was fucked up and that all he was good for was ruining his own life. But everything about Gerard was so tempting. His insecurity, how he seemed to blindly trust Frank, how fucking attractive he was… He was making Frank’s head spin.  
  
Frank had three beers before Tuesday’s meeting. He tried telling himself that it wasn’t because he’d have to deal with Gerard again but he knew he was lying to himself.  
  
He went early, hoping he’d be able to avoid talking to Gerard before the whole thing started. The October wind was icy on his way there, but at least it wasn’t raining today. He missed going by car. Maybe he’d be able to buy one. Someday. He’d have to get a different job first, though, and for that, he needed to completely re-establish his life. So… no car. He’d just crash it, anyway.  
  
Gerard wasn’t there yet when Frank arrived. Even though that was what he’d been hoping for, he was disappointed. Only a few people had arrived before Frank, and none of them he wanted to talk to, so he dropped down on one of the chairs, feeling disheartened already. What was he even doing here? Did he even _want_ to become better, or was he just waiting for Gerard to barge in so he’d go astray all over again? He didn’t know. The alcohol in his system usually made things feel easier, but today, Frank couldn’t think a straight thought. He craved going home and just having another beer, then going to sleep. He shouldn’t have come here.  
  
“This seat taken?”  
  
A light hand touched Frank’s shoulder just then, forcing him out of his miserable thoughts and into his miserable reality. Gerard had arrived. Frank shook his head as he watched him have a seat right next to him, suppressing a heavy sigh. This was going to be a long hour.  
  
“You okay?” Gerard asked then. His voice seemed to draw Frank in, as if it forced him to look at the other man. Hesitantly he met his eyes and nodded, not feeling up for any conversation.  
  
“Yeah. I’m good.”  
  
“If this is about last week...” Gerard began quietly, his eyes rushing over Frank’s face as if he expected him to lash out. God, this boy. Frank wanted to grab him and drag him into the bathroom down the hall. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Frank asked.  
  
Gerard hesitated. “Well, I… I offered to take your bags upstairs. I’m just- I’m worried you took it like, the wrong way? You seem distant. I’m sorry.”  
  
The thing Frank loved most about drinking was how horny the damn alcohol made him. He wasn’t actually _drunk_ by any means, but he did feel a little tipsy and in this mindset, Gerard seemed fucking irresistible. He was so scared, so shy because he feared he might have displeased Frank. Frank loved him all submissive and pliant. He usually liked having to put them back in their place, punishing them, but Gerard… Gerard seemed like the perfect little fuck toy for him. And just because he was well-behaved didn’t mean Frank wouldn’t get to hurt him.  
  
Frank still wasn’t too sure about what it was that he wanted from Gerard, but he knew it was in his best interest to keep all doors open. So he shook his head and put on a smile, loving how it calmed Gerard’s tense face immediately. He was so dependent already. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t mind, I just… I was getting tired, you know?”  
  
Gerard’s frown turned into a big grin. “I’m so glad, Frank. Because I was thinking… Are you tired now?”  
  
“No. Why?” Frank asked, cautious but interested.  
  
“I was thinking maybe you could come back to my place,” Gerard suggested, biting down on his lip as he watched Frank intently. “When we’re done here, I mean. Only if you wanna...”  
  
Frank took a moment to think before he responded. He hadn’t expected Gerard to make an offer like that, but then again, he never really knew what to expect from him. He liked that about Gerard. Not being able to read him. It would make owning him so much more fun.  
  
“What would we be doing?”  
  
“Well, I got… I got beer,” Gerard told him, making it sound like he knew all too well Frank couldn’t turn down free booze. His breath probably smelled of alcohol, so maybe that offer wasn’t all that unsurprising.  
  
It was then that Eleanor spoke up, asking the group to quiet down. Frank silently thanked her because like this, he had an entire hour to make up his mind. Gerard kept giving him hopeful glances, but Frank ignored him, pretending to be paying attention. His mind was busy weighing his options though. Did he want to take this opportunity? Was he actually this fucking weak? Or maybe he was reading all this wrong? Maybe this wasn’t an opportunity to fuck, maybe Gerard wasn’t asking for a hook-up. Maybe Frank had taken his offer the _wrong way_ , just like Gerard had called it. Maybe he was just trying to be the friend Frank needed…  


* * *

 

Gerard’s house was the complete opposite of Frank’s apartment. It wasn’t too fancy, just a simple two-story house with a garage in a neighborhood similar to the one Frank had grown up in. It was _nice_. He didn’t have to ask Gerard to know he was surrounded by all those perfect little families with their tedious jobs and ambitious kids, and that they all found him a weirdo because he wasn’t like them. But then again, Frank guessed it was hard for Gerard to fit in anywhere. He was pretty weird.

“Sorry, I haven’t really cleaned this place or anything, I… I wasn’t too sure whether I was actually gonna ask you,” Gerard said, gesturing around the hallway. Frank didn’t know what he meant, there wasn’t anything overly dirty or untidy. Everything looked so much better than his apartment. Hell, he didn’t even _have_ a hallway; if you entered Frank’s apartment, you were already in the living room, which was also his kitchen. His bedroom and bathroom were so tiny that they were barely worth mentioning. “Um… may I take your jacket?”  
  
“Sure.” Frank smirked as he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to Gerard. So well-behaved.  
  
With a slight blush, Gerard hung up both of their jackets, then gestured towards the nearest door. “Why don’t we have a seat?”  
  
As he followed Gerard into what turned out to be the living room, Frank realized he probably hadn’t changed all that much since his grandma had died. He noticed the couch was pretty old-fashioned, that there still were a few black and white photos on the walls, and that there were plants by the window that didn’t look like they’d been watered in a couple of weeks.  
  
“Sorry,” Gerard said unnecessarily, as if he’d read Frank’s mind. “I just never got around to buy new stuff. I’m not really good with money, and… I don’t know. It’s like she’s still here if I just keep her stuff. I don’t have lots of visitors, anyway. I know it’s stupid, and you can tell me if you don’t like it here...”  
  
Sensing Gerard would keep going like that if he didn’t intervene, Frank quickly put on a smile. “It’s fine. Looks like your grandma had good taste,” he said, half-joking. “But maybe water those plants sometime soon?”  
  
“Plants? Oh, fuck, right...” Disoriented for a moment, Gerard spun around to look at the brown leaves. “I keep forgetting… Sorry. Okay, I’ll get you a beer, then I’ll water the plants.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Frank said with a shrug, not mentioning that no amount of water in the world would bring those plants back to life. He watched Gerard hurry out of the room, then had a seat on the couch. It _was_ kind of weird. He felt like he was in some old couple’s living room, like he was about to be served tea and cookies, not beer by an attractive twenty-something-year-old… but then Gerard reappeared, two cans of beer in his hand, and Frank decided to just go with it. Gerard was weird, he’d already established that. Time to move on.  
  
“Do you need anything else?”  
  
Frank shook his head as he opened the can. “Nope, I’m good for now. Thanks.”  
  
He kept his eyes on Gerard’s ass when the other turned around again, a watering pot in his hand. It was such a nice ass. It looked firm and fun to smack, perfect to leave red welts on, perfect to spread open.  
  
“What do you wanna do?” Gerard asked, forcing Frank to look up at his face instead of his behind as he turned around. There was a smirk on his face, so he’d probably caught Frank staring. Oh, well. A smirk meant he didn’t mind being watched, right? “I haven’t really planned anything,” Gerard admitted. “But I’m up for whatever you want.”  
  
He was totally hitting on him, wasn’t he? Frank bit down on his lip as Gerard set the watering can down and had a seat next to him on the sofa, trying to come up with a good response. Yet again, he had to find how fucking handsome Gerard was. He watched his features when Gerard opened his beer, took in his pretty eyes, his little nose and those perfect lips. He had never dated anyone this attractive. Sure, Frank hadn’t fucked anyone _ugly_ , but none of his former boyfriends came close to how pretty Gerard was. And he was so eager and well-behaved as well… He was special.  
  


* * *

  
  
It should be weirder. Sitting on Gerard’s sofa, next to Gerard, drinking some decent free beer, watching a movie – it _should_ be weirder than it was. Frank hadn’t spent a night like this in months and months; he couldn’t even remember properly. But this was nice. Once he had calmed down a bit and wasn’t a nervous train wreck anymore, Gerard was actually kind of fun to be around. Well, they didn’t talk much during the movie, so maybe it was just Frank getting more and more comfortable with the situation rather than Gerard changing anything about his behavior, but the point was that Frank felt _okay_. He hadn’t in a long time.

The movie seemed to be pretty good but Frank wasn’t paying all that much attention. For some reason, he was able to focus on anything but what was going on on the screen in front of them – he kept glancing around the room as if the furniture and décor would reveal more about Gerard’s secrets or as if he needed to provide his brain with as much evidence as possible that this was really happening and he wasn’t trapped in an absurd dream. He was really sitting on this guy’s couch, a guy he’d met in fucking therapy, a guy he’d wanted to protect himself from. But maybe it was good that he had given in. This was totally worth it. His whole body felt oddly warm and he doubted that it was just the beer. It was getting pretty late but for some reason, Frank didn’t feel remotely tired. He wanted to drag this out as much as possible.

In Frank’s tipsy state, the whole world seemed a little friendlier than it had in months. He was proud of himself for making it this far, happy to have escaped his horrible apartment for a few valuable hours, and just completely relaxed – but then something happened that made him snap back to reality. Gerard, who had been sitting closer to him than strictly necessary, considering how big the sofa was, was suddenly a whole lot closer than he’d been before. Being so caught up in his thoughts, Frank hadn’t realized it, but Gerard must have fallen asleep. Because his head was now on his shoulder, somehow way heavier than Frank would have expected because he couldn’t remember the last time someone had rested their head on his shoulder, and it completely threw him off-track. It took him a moment to realize he was holding his breath.  
  
“Gerard?” he said, his voice a little croaky because he hadn’t spoken for a while. Gerard didn’t stir. Frank cursed under his breath, pondering over what he should do. Part of him wanted to shove him away but part of him really _didn’t_. So he just sat there for a couple of minutes with his heart beating about twice as fast as it normally did, unable to move or think a straight thought. The weight on his shoulder felt good. Knowing it was Gerard made it feel even better.

Frank took a deep breath, realizing what he was allowing himself to feel. This couldn’t happen. No matter how comfortable he was. Suddenly all those memories came crashing down on him, almost as if he could hear his screams all over again, see his desperate, wet eyes right in front of him, feel his nails clawing at his skin, attempting to make him stop…

“Gerard,” he said, more forcefully this time. It broke his heart a little to see him startle awake and he regretted using such a harsh tone.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but then he smiled apologetically, looking at Frank through sleepy eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to...”  
  
“It’s fine. I just... didn’t want you to miss the best part of the movie,” Frank said quickly, then scooted a little further away from him and gestured towards the TV. “It’s-” But before he could finish his excuse, he realized it was a pretty damn bad one because the movie wasn’t even playing anymore. The credits were rolling down the screen slowly and the music seemed to be mocking him, suddenly seeming loud and impossible to ignore.

Gerard giggled. For some weird reason, he must have thought Frank was joking, and for some even weirder reason, Frank was irrationally glad he hadn’t made a fool of himself. “Oh yeah, who doesn’t love the credits? When I was younger, my brother and I used to sit through the entire thing and laugh at all the funny names. Well, back then, he couldn’t read yet, so I had to read them out loud and I might have made the funniest ones up… He was adorable when he laughed,” he explained almost as if he had to justify his actions, still smiling.

Frank copied the expression on his face. That was actually a really sweet story, and suddenly Gerard didn’t seem all that weird any more but just _human_. “Listen, I didn’t mean to wake you up but...” Frank said, changing the subject. “Well, maybe I should get going. It’s pretty late.”  
  
“Stay,” Gerard suggested with a blush. Frank could tell he’d surprised himself. “I mean, you can’t just walk home, it’s too far.”  
  
“So… drive me?” Frank asked with a frown. They hadn’t talked about this before he had gotten here, but he’d sort of expected Gerard to drive him back home.

“Too tired,” Gerard said with a yawn that seemed a little too long to be real. “And I’m tipsy.”  
  
“Right...” Frank didn’t really know what to make of that. He was pretty sure Gerard was just fucking with him. Like he would totally be able to drive him but he didn’t want to because he wanted Frank to stay the night. Frank wasn’t okay with that, he hadn’t signed up for it. He doubted he’d be able to control himself. Not after all the beers he’d had. “So I’ll walk, then. Or I’ll try to take a bus. No worries.”  
  
“But you live so far away,” Gerard repeated, now a little more urgent than before. “You can stay here, it’d be no problem at all.”  
  
“Where would I even be sleeping-”  
  
“There’s a guest room upstairs,” Gerard said quickly. “And you can have some of my clothes to sleep in. And I’ll make breakfast tomorrow. Well, I only got cornflakes but-”  
  
“Gerard, listen to me-”  
  
“I really wouldn’t mind,” Gerard interrupted him. “This house is so big, I don’t need half of the space I got. It’s so late.”  
  
Frank hesitated, feeling like he was running out of excuses. “No,” he then said, shaking his head determinedly. “Look, we barely know each other and I just… gotta get home, okay?”

Expecting Gerard to keep trying to convince him to stay, Frank searched his brain for any possible excuses. But Gerard sighed and nodded, giving a little shrug. “Okay, maybe you’re right… Sorry.”  
  
“You don’t need to apologize all the time. It’s fine,” Frank said. He got up from the couch, ready to head for the hallway.  
  
“You wanna leave right now?” Gerard asked, sounding a little scared.  
  
“Well, yeah,” Frank answered. Of course, he’d want to stay longer, but Gerard was making it obvious that it became more and more dangerous for the both of them the longer Frank stayed. “I mean, you seem tired, I’m getting tired...”

“Let me show you one more thing.” Gerard’s eyes were glowing hopefully as he said that, wide awake, not at all looking as if he’d just taken a nap on Frank’s shoulder. He too got up and walked out of the room, not paying any attention to the TV, and Frank followed him with a frown. “Here, we better put this on. I bet it’s freezing,” Gerard said, handing him his jacket before putting on his own.

“We’re going outside?” Frank was confused. Whatever Gerard wanted to show him, he wasn’t too sure he was ready for it. But them going outside meant that Gerard wasn’t trying to lure him into his basement or something, which was definitely a good thing. With how desperately Gerard had tried to keep Frank here overnight, Frank wouldn’t have been surprised to find himself locked in somewhere.

Gerard nodded. “Yeah, in my garden. Just follow me.”  
  
“You have a garden?” Frank asked, somewhat speechless. A car and a garden. And a big house. That was pretty damn impressive. He followed Gerard to the kitchen and was led through a back door. The air was icy just as Gerard had predicted but at least it wasn’t raining. Frank inhaled the refreshing air as Gerard closed the door behind him. Instinctively he fumbled for his smokes in the pocket of his jacket, just now realizing he was aching to get some nicotine into his system.

“Want one?” he asked Gerard as he placed one of them between his lips.

“In a minute. Please,” Gerard said. Frank caught his smile when he lit the cigarette, but then Gerard turned around and crouched down in front of a box by the door. Frank watched him curiously, not really able to see what Gerard was doing because now the only source of light came from the moon somewhere far above them and a window in one of the adjacent houses. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Getting a blanket for us,” Gerard responded. “There’s one somewhere in here-”  
  
“Isn’t there like, a lamp out here? It’s so damn dark.”  
  
“It needs to be dark. Ah, here it is.” Gerard got up, said blanket in his arms, and walked onto the grass in front of them. When he was a few feet away from where Frank was standing, he spread it out on the ground and sat down on top of it. “You coming?”  
  
“This is what you wanted to show me?” Frank asked, not really thinking about it as he closed the distance between them and sat down next to Gerard. He handed him a smoke and his lighter, which Gerard accepted happily. “This blanket?”

“No, not the blanket,” Gerard said with a chuckle. He lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply and let himself slump onto the ground so he was lying on his back. “You need to lie down too.”  
  
“Okay.” Confused but still curious, Frank copied Gerard. The blanket wasn’t too big, so he had to lie down pretty close to him if he didn’t want to end up on the grass. Their arms touched as they lay there, smoking, and for a few long moments, Frank thought that was the only thing they were doing. “So…”  
  
“Don’t you see it?” Gerard asked. He sounded different, calm. Frank hadn’t heard him like this before.

He wanted to ask what he was supposed to be seeing, but then he realized what Gerard meant, why they were lying on the cold ground and why it had to be dark. Millions and millions of stars were looking back at them, so beautiful and peaceful Frank forgot the cigarette between his fingers for a long moment. There were a couple of dark areas – clouds blocking their view – but luckily, it wasn’t too cloudy tonight. He couldn’t remember ever doing this before. Taking his time to just look at the stars. It wasn’t something he usually did, this wasn’t _him_ – but he couldn’t deny how beautiful they were.  
  
“Breath-taking, aren’t they? The stars?” Gerard sighed. “The closest one is over four light-years away. _Four light-years_. Isn’t that crazy to think about?”  
  
“Wow,” Frank said. He brought his smoke to his lips and inhaled, suddenly feeling very small. “Yeah. Fuck, that is crazy.”  
  
“Did you know that there are two hundred to four hundred billion stars in our galaxy? Only in this galaxy – and then there are so many more out there. You can’t even begin to imagine how fucking big this universe is. I don’t understand how there are people who seriously believe that Earth is the only planet on which life exists, there are endless possibilities.”  
  
“So you believe in aliens?”  
  
Gerard nodded enthusiastically. “Obviously! I’m not an idiot. There’s _gotta_ be something out there.” Frank didn’t really know what to say to that but it seemed like Gerard wasn’t expecting a response. He was quiet for quite sometime after that, just marveling at the stars far above them, and Frank couldn’t help but smile a little to himself. He didn’t know what this was – _this_ , this moment, this conversation – but he was just going with it, and so far, he couldn’t deny that spending time with Gerard was so much more fun than he’d ever thought it would be. After just spending this one night with him, he already felt like he could understand him so much better, even if most about Gerard was still just a big question mark in Frank’s head.

They smoked in silence and remained silent by the time they’d both finished their cigarettes. Frank almost felt like time had stopped. It was dangerously easy to ignore who he was right now, what he had done. Looking at the stars that were so incredibly far away, thinking about how huge the universe was, all his problems seemed insignificant. It almost felt like what he had done wasn’t so bad, after all. Even if it was just for a moment.

“Frank?” Gerard asked. Frank opened his eyes, only now realizing he must have closed them at some point, to find him right in front of his face. Gerard was only a shadow but even now, something about him was enticing.

“Yeah?” Frank responded hoarsely. His lips were dry and for the second time that night, his heart was racing. Fuck, was he close.

Gerard took a deep breath before he spoke again. “I just...” he began, and Frank waited for him to continue, but he never did. Before Frank could even realize what was going to happen, he felt a pair of soft lips on his own, hesitant but still somewhat urgent. He kissed him back, not even thinking about it; his hands were all over Gerard, tugging on his hair, pulling him closer, and suddenly Gerard was on top of him, and his tongue was in his mouth, and Frank didn’t feel cold anymore. Gerard was everywhere and everything Frank could think about – his taste, how cold his hands felt on his face and nape, his scent, the amazing sounds that slipped from his mouth right into Frank’s. Desire grew inside of him like a wild animal that had been sleeping for a very long time and was just now waking up again, hungry and tired of lying around, ready to _attack_. A tiny voice in Frank’s dizzy head tried to make him stop, but he didn’t care. This was too fucking good to stop.

He’d never thought this was going to happen. He’d never thought _Gerard_ was going to kiss _him_. He was full of fucking secrets and surprises.

Gerard started rutting against him, careful at first, as if he didn’t really dare move but simply couldn’t help himself, and when Frank didn’t push him away, his movements grew more urgent. The voice in Frank’s head became louder but Gerard, unable to hear it, kept going until they were both hard and panting. Gerard was a great kisser. A little frantic but obviously experienced, and when Frank took control, he let him willingly.

Frank’s body was hot and tingly all over. He felt like he was floating, somewhere far away from the world towards the stars, and clinging to Gerard’s hair and his back was the only thing that kept him on the ground. Every little thrust of Gerard’s hips made him fly a little higher, so he had to hold onto him even firmer, kiss him more roughly. He could control the voice in his head pretty well – until Gerard lifted his hips and began to unbutton Frank’s pants and the voice started yelling at him.

“Gerard-” Frank began, but Gerard just kissed him again, shutting him up. He opened Frank’s pants and began to palm him through his underwear and it was so fucking good, just feeling someone else’s hand down there again. Fuck, Frank missed sex. He missed the contact. Everything about this was amazing – except that it just _couldn’t_ fucking happen. “Gerard, no-”  
  
“I know,” Gerard whispered. He stopped kissing Frank’s lips and moved down to his neck, and for some reason, Frank still didn’t push him away. The hand on his dick kept him captured pretty efficiently. “I know what you wanna say. Don’t. It’s okay, Frank, you don’t have to do anything, I don’t expect you to do anything in return, there’s nothing that you could do to hurt me. Just let me take care of you, yeah? I’ve wanted to do this for so long and I know so have you. It’s okay.”  
  
“But- Gerard-” Frank said again, suppressing a moan when Gerard squeezed his cock a little. Fuck, did he want this. He fucking needed it. Maybe Gerard was right. If he only wanted to take care of him, if Frank wouldn’t even get to touch Gerard, nothing could go wrong, could it? Maybe this was a good thing. Gerard knew what was up with Frank, he would be careful what to expect, and he knew what he was doing. Fuck it. Frank sighed when Gerard scooted down, obviously taking Frank’s silence as a yes. Frank decided this was okay. He would just lie here and enjoy the moment – hell, maybe he even deserved getting his cock sucked after months and months of self-punishment.

The air seemed way colder than it had before when Gerard pulled Frank’s cock out of his underwear. Frank inhaled sharply, shocked by _how_ fucking cold it was, but before he could change his mind or suggest they went inside for this, Gerard’s wonderfully warm mouth was already around him, heating him up at an instant. Frank cursed as his eyes rolled back in his head and he felt his mind go blank. God, he’d forgotten how good this was. Gerard nibbled on his tip for a while, using his tongue in a way that made Frank bite down on his lip so he didn’t moan even louder before he took him in completely. He only struggled for a moment before he got his gag reflex under control and Frank felt Gerard’s warm throat around his tip. Then he began to bob his head up and down; his tongue was doing incredible things to Frank’s cock, and maybe it only felt like this to Frank but this might very well be the best blow job of his entire life. Gerard was eager, fucking moaning around Frank as if sucking him off was the only thing he’d ever wanted, as if he desperately needed to show Frank how good he was.

At some point, Frank couldn’t keep his hands still anymore. He reached out for Gerard’s hair yet again, holding onto him, tugging on a strand on the top of his head, and Gerard moaned even louder. Frank’s cock twitched as Gerard’s warm lips sunk down on him once more, further and further, until they were around the base of his dick. He stayed there longer than before, making Frank feel like he was seconds away from spilling his load, and only moved up when he really needed to breathe again.

“Hold me down,” he panted, desperate and urgent.

“What?”

“Hold me down,” Gerard repeated. “Please, fuck. I want you to hold me down so bad. Please, Frank.”  
  
Frank suppressed another moan, unable to believe Gerard was for real. The doubts were back in his head because now he _would_ be doing something that could possibly hurt Gerard but… Gerard wanted him to. And he sounded like he really, really meant it. “Slap my thigh if you want me to stop,” he said determinedly, and when Gerard’s lips were around him once more, he pushed him down and didn’t stop until he’d taken his entire cock. Gerard made a noise that sounded grateful, like Frank had done him a huge favor, and then he kept whimpering and moaning so damn beautifully that Frank doubted he would last much longer. He pulled him up by his hair, feeling like he’d need some oxygen although Gerard hadn’t slapped his thigh yet, and let him gulp down several deep breaths.  
  
“Okay?” Frank asked, careful not to lose control. He wanted this to be fun for the both of them, not something he’d spent another six months regretting.  
  
“So fucking okay,” Gerard said. He was hoarse and breathless, and it was the hottest thing Frank had heard in a really long time. “Keep going, please.”  
  
Frank was getting closer by the second. When Gerard’s mouth was around his cock again, he could already feel the release boiling in his stomach. God, was he ready to cum. He kept Gerard’s head down a few minutes longer, then let go of him, wanting to give him a chance to pull back. “I’m gonna cum,” he breathed out when Gerard whined at the loss of touch. Gerard made another noise in the back of his throat but didn’t pull back. Instead, he bobbed his head up and down faster than before, moving his tongue over all the right places, seemingly convinced to make Frank finish in his mouth. Frank was so fucking okay with that. A few moments later, he felt himself explode inside of Gerard; his every cell was burning deliciously and he bucked his hips, unable to stop his body from jerking and his hand from tightening in Gerard’s hair once more. Gerard kept his head still patiently, listening to Frank’s moans and taking the entire load, and he even sucked on his head gently once he was finished, making Frank twitch and curse.

He was completely spent. The stars above him were dancing in the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat, his mouth was dry, his brain felt scrambled. It took him a few moments to close his pants, having not felt the cold air at all, and realize what had just happened.  
  
Gerard had sucked him off. Gerard had kissed him, taken his fucking cock out and sucked him until he’d cum in his mouth. And Frank was _okay_ with it. Part of him felt like he should be panicking, he should be on his feet and running away from this dilemma, but he wasn’t. He was still lying on the blanket in Gerard’s garden, breathing heavily and feeling incredible. He hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months.

“Okay?” This time it was Gerard’s turn to ask, and he sounded honestly concerned.

Frank took a moment to reply. “Yeah. I think. Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Thanks for letting me do that,” Gerard whispered. He had laid down next to Frank again and was watching him carefully. “I loved it. And you don’t need to feel bad about it or anything because… Well, because I really wanted it. Nothing happened, see.”  
  
“Right,” Frank said. He felt too overwhelmed to argue or even think about what this meant. He wanted to bask in the aftermath of his orgasm for as long as he could. Then he remembered something. “Wait, do you really not want me to… I mean, what about you?”

“What about me?” Gerard asked.

Frank frowned at him in the darkness. “Don’t you want me to get you off?”  
  
Gerard giggled and Frank saw him shake his head. “No. I kinda... came in my pants when you held me down, so...”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Yeah,” Gerard said bashfully.

“Fuck.” Frank swallowed, not really sure what to say next. Gerard was unbelievable.

They were silent for a minute, both still catching their breaths, digesting what had happened. Then Gerard spoke again, hastily, as if he had to force himself to ask. “You still don’t wanna spend the night?”

Frank sighed. He tried to recall the arguments he’d had when Gerard had asked him earlier but that conversation seemed to be far away, like it had happened months instead of minutes ago. He felt exhausted, and he had to admit just sleeping at Gerard’s place sounded pretty damn amazing. Just lying down in a nice warm bed, on a mattress that was probably way more comfortable than the one in his apartment.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Frank said, somewhat frustrated but already knowing that he was going to accept Gerard’s offer. “I need another smoke first.”


End file.
